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DR. BENJAMIN FKAlNKLIiN. 



11 



THE 



OP 



DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN: 



CONSISTING OF 



ESSAYS, 

HUMOROUS, MORAL, AND LITERARY: 



WITH HIS 



LIFE, WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 



Stereotyped by J. A. James. 

BALTIMORE: 

N. HICKMAN, MARKET STREET. 




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PREFACE. 



.... 

As biography is a species of history, which re- 
cords the lives and characters of remarkable 
persons, it consequently becomes an interesting 
subject, and is of general utility. It would be 
but fair to assert, that almost every civilized na- 
tion on the globe has, at one period or other, 
produced distinguished individuals in various 
stations of life. 

Mr. Jefferson, the President of the United 
States of America, in his ** Notes on Virginia," 
thus speaks, — in answer to the assertion of the 
Abbe Raynal, that ' America has not yet pro- 
duced one good poet, one able mathematician, 
one man of genius, in a single art, or a single 
science,' — " When we shall have existed as a 
nation, as long as the Greeks did before they 
produced a Homer, the Romans a Virgil, the 
French a Racine and Voltaire, the English a 
Shakspeare and Milton, should this reproach be 
still true, we will inquire from what unfriendly 
causes it has proceeded, that the other countries 
of Europe and quarters of the earth shall not 



iv PREFACE, 

have inscribed any name in the roll of poets. In 
war we have produced a Washington, whose me- 
mory will be adored while liberty shall have vo- 
taries; whose name will triumph over time, and 
will in future ages assume its just station among 
the most celebrated worthies of the world, when 
that wretched philosophy shall be forgotten 
which would arrange him among the degenera- 
cies of nature. In physics we have produced a 
Franklin, titan whom no one of the present age 
has made more important discoveries, nor has 
enriched philosophy with more or more ingeni- 
ous solutions of the phenomena of nature. We 
have supposed Mr. Rittenhouse second to no 
astronomer living; that in genius he must be the 
first, because he is self-taught," &c. 

In philosophy, England can boast of a Bacon, 
the most eminent professor in this science the 
world has ever produced. The Essays of this 
great writer is one of the best proofs we can ad- 
duce of his transcendent abilities; and America 
claims the enlightened Franklin, a man who 
has not left his equal behind him, and whose life 
and writings are the subject of the following 
sheets. 

To say more m ihis place of our author would 
be anticipating what is hereafter mentioned: it 
will therefore only be necessary to add, that due 
attention has been paid in the selection of such 
of his productions as may be adapted to general 
perusal. The following letter from the celeb ra- 



PREFACE. v 

ted Dr. Price, to a gentleman in Philadelphia, 
upon the subject of Dr. Franklin's Memoirs of 
his own Life, will not, it is presumed, be consid- 
ered inapplicable. 

" Hackney, June 19, 1790. 

*' Dear Sir, 

" I am hardly able to tell you how kindly I 
take the letters with which you favor me. Your 
last, containing an account of the death of our 
excellent friend, Dr. Franklin, and the circum- 
stances attending it, deserves my particular grat- 
itude. The account which he has left of his life 
will show, in a striking example, how a man, by 
talents, industry, and integrity, may rise from 
obscurity to the first eminence and consequence 
in the world; but it brings his history no lower 
than the year 1757, and I understand that since 
he sent over the copy, which I have read, he 
has been able to mate no additions to it. It 
is with a melancholy regret that I think of his 
death; but to death we are all bound by the ir- 
revocable order of nature, and in looking for- 
ward to it, there is a comfort in being able to 
reflect, that "we have not lived in vain, and that 
all the useful and virtuous shall meet in a better 
country beyond the grave. 

" Dr. Franklin, in the last letter I received 
from him, after mentioning his age and infirmi- 
ties, observes, that it has been kindly ordered 
by the Author of nature, that, as we draw nearer 
the conclusion of life we are furnished with more 
helps to wean us from it, amongst which one of 
the strongest is the loss of dear friends. I was 
delighted with the account you gave in your let- 
ter of the honor shown to his memory at Phila- 
1* 



vi PREFACE. 

delphia, and by Congress; and yesterday I re- 
ceived a high additional pleasure by being in- 
formed that the National Assembly of France 
had determined to go into mourning for him. 
What a glorious scene is opened there! The an- 
nals of the world furnish no parallel to it. One 
of the honors of our departed friend is, that be 
has contributed much to it. 

" I am, with great respect, 

" your obliged and very humble servant, 

RICHARD PRICE." 



LIFE 

OP 

DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 



My Dear Son, i 

I have amused myself with collecting some 
little anecdotes of my family. You may remem- 
ber the inquiries I made, when you were with 
me in England, among such of my relations as 
were then living; and the journey I undertook 
for that purpose. To be acquainted with the 
particulars of my parentage and life, many of 
which are unknown to you, 1 flatter myself, 
will afford the same pleasure to you as to me. 
I shall relate them upon paper; it will be an 
agreeable employment of a weeks uninter- 
rupted leisure, which I promise myself during 
my present retirement in 1he country. There 
are also other motives which induce me to the 
undertaking. From the bosom of poverty and 
obscurity, in which I drew my first breath and 
spent my earliest years, I have raised myself 
to a state of opulence and to some degree of 
celebrity in the world. A constant good for- 
tune has attended me through every period of 
life, to my present advanced age; and my de- 
scendants may be desirous of learning what 



8 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

were the means of which I made use, and 
which, thanks to the assisting hand of Provi- 
dence, have proved so eminently successful. 
They may also, should they ever be placed in 
a similar situation, derive some advantage from 
my narrative. 

When I reflect, as J frequently do, upon the 
felicity I have enjoyed, I sometimes say to my- 
self, that, were the offer made me, I would en- 
gage to run again, from beginning to end, the 
same career of life. All I would ask should be 
the privilege of an author, to correct, in a se- 
cond edition, certain errors of the first. I could 
wish, likewise, if it were in my power, to change 
some trivial incidents and events for others 
more favorable. Were this, however, denied 
me, still I would not decline the offer. But 
since a repetition of life cannot take place, 
there is nothing which, in my opionin, so nearly 
resembles it, as to call to mind all the circum- 
stances, and to render their remembrance more 
durable, commit them to writing. By thus em- 
ploying myself, I shall yield to the inclina- 
tion so natural to old men, to talk of themselves 
and their exploits, and may freely follow my 
bent, without being tiresome to those, who 
from respect to my age, might think themselves 
obliged tolisten to me, as they will be at liber- 
ty to read me or not, as they please. In fine, 
(and I may well avow it, since nobody would 
believe me were I to deny it,) I shall, perhaps, 
by this employment, gratify my vanity, scarce- 
ly indeed have I ever heard or read the intro- 
ductory phrase, "I may say without vanity ," 
but some striking and characteristic instance 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 9 

of vanity has immediately followed. The gen- 
erality of men hate vanity in others, however 
strongly they may be tinctured with it them- 
selves; for myself, I pay obeisance to it where- 
ever I meet it, persuaded that it is advantageous 
as well to the individual whom it governs, as 
to those who are within the sphere of its influ- 
ence. Of consequence, it would, in many ca- 
ses, not be wholly absurd, that a man should 
count his vanity among the other sweets of 
life, and give thanks to Providence for the 
blessing. 

And here let me with all humility acknowl- 
edge, that to Divine Providence I am indebted 
for the felicity I have hitherto enjoyed. It is 
that power alone which has furnished me with 
the means 1 have employed and that has 
crowned them with success. My faith in this 
respect leads me to hope, though I cannot count 
upon it, that the Divine goodness will still be 
exercised towards me, either by prolonging the 
duration of my happiness to the close of life, or 
by giving me fortitude to support any melan- 
choly reverse, which may happen to me, as to 
so many others. My future fortune is unknown 
but to Him in whose hand is our destiny, and 
who can make our very afflictions subservient 
to our benefit. 

One of my uncles, desirous, like myself, of 
collecting anecdotes of our family, gave me 
some notes, from which I have derived many 
particulars respecting our ancestors. From 
these I learn, that they had lived in the same 
village, (Eaton, in Northamptonshire,) upon a 
freehold of about thirty acres, for the space at 
a 2 



10 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

least of three hundred years. How long they 
had resided there prior to that period, my uncle 
had been unable to discover; probably ever since 
the institution of surnames, which had former- 
ly been the name of a particular order of indi- 
viduals.* 

This petty estate would not have sufficed for 
their subsistence, had they not added the trade 
of blacksmith, Which was perpetuated in the 
family down to my uncle's time, the eldest son 
having been uniformlybrought up to this employ- 
ment; a custom which both he and my father 
observed with respect to their eldest sons. 

In the researches I made at EatoD, I found no 
account of their births, marriages, and deaths, 
earlier than the year 1555; the parish register not 

* As a proof that Franklin was anciently fhe common name of 
an order or rank in England, see Jude Fortesqae,de laudibue Iegum 
Anglhe, written about the year 1412, in which is t he following 
passage, to show that good juries might easily be formed in any 
part of England: 

•' Regio etiam ilia, in respersa rcfertaquc est possessoribus terra- 
rum et agrorum, quod in ea, villula tarn parva reperiri non poterit, 
in qua non est miles, armiger, vel paterfamilias, qualis ibidem 
Franklin vulgariter nuncupatar, magnis dictates possessionibus, 
nee non libere tenent.es at alii valectit plurimi, suis patrimoniis 
sufficientes, ad faciendum juratum, in forma prsehotata." 

" Moreover, the same country is so filled and replenished with 
landed menne, that therein so small a thorpe cannot be found 
wherein dwelleth not a knight, an esquire, or such an householder 
as is there commonly called a Franklin, enriched with great pos- 
sessions; and also otj or freeholders and many yeomen, able for their 
livelihoods to make a jury in form aforementioned." 

Old, Translation. 
Chaucer, too, calls his country gentleman a Franklin, and after 
describing his good housekeeping, thus characterizes him; 
This worthy Franklin bore a purse of silk, 
Fix'd to his girdle, white as morning milk, 
Knight of the shire, first justice at the assize, 
To help the poor, the doubtful to advise, 
In all employments, generous, just he prov'd 
Renown'd for courtesy, by all belov'd. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 11 

extending further back than that period. The 
register informed me, that I was the youngest son 
of the youngest branch of the family, counting five 
generations. My grandfather' Thomas, who was 
born 1598, lived at Eaton till he was too old to 
continue his trad£, when he retired to Banbury, 
in Oxfordshire, where his son John, who was 
a dyer, residded,and with whom my father was 
apprenticed. He died, and was buried there; we 
saw his monument in 1758. His eldest son lived 
in the family house at Eaton, which he bequea- 
thed, with the land belonging to it, to his only 
daughter, who, in concert with her husband, Mr. 
Fisher, of Wellingborough, afterwards sold it to 
Mr. Ested, the present proprietor. 

My grandfather had four surviving sons, Thom- 
as, John, Benjamin, and Josias. I shall give you • 
such particulars of them as my memory will fur- 
nish, not having my papers here, in which you 
will find a more minute account, if they are not 
lost during my absence. 

Thomas had learned the trade of blacksmith 
under his father; but possessing a good natural 
understanding, he improved it by study, at the 
solicitation of a gentleman of the name of Palmer, 
who was at that time the principal inhabitant of 
the village, and who encouraged in like manner 
all my uncles to improve their minds. Thomas 
thus rendered himself competent to the functions 
of a country attorney: soon became an essential 
personage in the affairs of the village: and was one 
of the chief movers of every public enterprise, 
as well relative to the county, as to the town of 
Northampton. A variety of remarkable inci- 
dents were told us of him at Eaton. After enjoy- 



12 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

ing the esteem and patronage of Lord Halifax, he 
died January 6, 1702, precisely four years before 
I was born. The recital that was made us of his 
life and character, by some aged persons of the 
village, struck you, I remember, as extraordina- 
ry, from its analogy to what you know of myself. 
"Hadhedied," said you, "just four years later, one 
might have supposed a transmigration of souls." 

John, to the best of my belief, was brought 
up to the trade of a wool-dyer. 

Benjamin served his apprenticeship in Lon- 
don, to a silk-dyer. He was an industrious man; 
I remember him well; for, while I was a child, 
he joined my father at Boston, and lived for some 
years in the house with us. A particular affec- 
tion had always subsisted between my father 
and him, and I was his godson. He arrived to a 
great age. He left behind him two quarto vol- 
umes of poems in manuscript, consisting of little 
fugitive pieces addressed to his friends. He had 
invented a short hand, which he taught me, but 
having never made use of it, I have now forgotten 
it. He was a man of piety, and a constant attend- 
ant on the best preachers, whose sermons he took a 
pleasure in writing down according to the expe- 
ditory method he had devised. Many volumes 
were thus collected by him. He was also ex- 
tremely fond of politics, too much so perhaps for 
his situation. I lately found in London a collec- 
tion which he had made of all the principal 
pamphlets relative to public affairs, from the 
year 1641 to 1717. Many volumes are wanting, 
as appears by the series of numbers; but there 
still remain eight in folio, and twenty-four in 
quarto and octavo. The collection had fallen 






LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 13 

into the hands of a second-hand bookseller, who 
knowing me by having sold me some books, 
brought it to me. My uncle, it seems, had left 
it behind him on his departure for America, 
about fifty years ago. I found various notes of 
his writing in the margins. His grandson, Sam- 
uel, is now living at Boston. 

-Our humble family had early embraced the 
reformation. They remained faithfully attached 
during the reign of Queen Mary, when they 
were in danger of being molested on account of 
their zeal against Popery. They had an English 
Bible, and to conceal it the more securely, they 
conceived the project of fastening it, open, with 
pack-threads across the leaves, on the inside of 
the lid of a close-stool. When my great-grand- 
father wished to read to his family, he reversed 
the lid of the close-stool upon his knees, and 
passed the leaves from one side to the other, 
which were held down on each by the pack- 
thread. One of the children was stationed at 
the door to give notice if he saw the proctor, an 
officer of the spiritual court, make his appear- 
ance; in that case, the lid was restored to its 
place, with the Bible concealed under it as be- 
fore. I had this anecdote from my uncle Benja- 
min. 

The whole family preserved its attachment to 
the Church of England, till towards the close of 
the reign of Charles II. when certain ministers, 
who had been ejected as non-conformists, having 
held conventicles in Northamtonshire, they were 
joined by Benjamin and Josias, who adhered to 
them ever after. The rest of the family contin- 
ued in the Episcopal Church. 
2 B 



14 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

My father, Josias, married early in life. He 
went with his wife and three children to New- 
England, about the year 1682. Conventicles 
being at that time prohibited by law, and fre- 
quently disturbed, some considerable persons of 
his acquaintence determined to go to America, 
where they hoped to enjoy the free exercise of 
their religion, and my father was prevailed on 
to accompany them. 

My father had also by the same wife, four chil- 
dren born in America, and ten others by a sec- 
ond wife, making in all seventeen. I remember 
to have seen thirteen seated together at his 
table, who had all arrived at years of maturity, 
and were married. I was the last of the sons, 
and the youngest child, excepting two daughters. 
I was born at Boston, in New-England. My 
mother, the second wife, was Abiah Folger, 
daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first colon- 
ists of New-England, of whom Cotton Mather 
makes honorable mention, in his Ecclesiastical 
History of that province, as "a pious and learned 
Englishman," if I rightly recollect his expres- 
sions. I have been told of his having written a 
variety of little pieces; but there appears to be 
only one in print, which 1 met with many years 
ago. It was published in the year 1675, and is 
in familiar verse, agreeably to the taste of the 
times and the country. ( The author addresses 
himself to the governors for the time being, 
speaks for liberty of conscience, and in favor of 
the anabaptists, quakers, and other sectaries, 
who had suffered persecution. To this persecu- 
tion he attributes the wars with the natives, and 
other calamities which afflicted the country, re- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 15 

garding them as the judgments of God, in pun- 
ishment of so odious an offence, and he exhorts 
the goverment to the repeal of laws so contrary 
to charity. The poem appeared to be written 
with a manly freedom and a pleasing simplicity. 
I recollect the six concluding lines, though I 
have forgotten the order of the words of the two 
first; the sense of which was, that his censures 
were dictated by benevolence,, and that; of con- 
sequence, he wished to be known as the author, 
because, said he, I hate from my very soul dis- 
simulation. 

From Sherburn* where I dwell, 

I therefore put my name, 
Your friend who means you well. 

PETER FOLGER. 

My brothers were all put apprentices to differ- 
ent trades. With respect to myself, I was sent, 
at the age of eight years, to a grammar school. 
My father >destined me for the church, and al- 
ready regarded me as the chaplain of the family. 
The promptitude with which, from my infancy, 
I had learned to read, for I do not remember to 
have been ever without this acquirement, and 
the encouragement of his friends, who assured 
me that I should one day certainly become a 
man of letters, confirmed him in his design. My 
uncle Benjamin approved also of the scheme, 
and promised to give me all his volumes of ser- 
mons, written, as I have said, in the short hand 
of his invention, if I would take the pains to 
learn it. 

* Town in the Island of Nantucket. 



1G LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

I remained, however, scarcely a year at the 
grammar school, although, in this short interval, 
I had risen from the middle to the head of my 
class, from thence to the class immediately 
above, and was to pass, at the end of the year, 
to the next one in oz-der. But my father, bur- 
thened with a numerous family, found that he 
was incapable, without subjecting himself to dif- 
ficulties, of providing for the expence of a col- 
legiate education, and considering besides, as I 
heard him say to his friends, that persons so ed- 
ucated were often poorly provided for, he re- 
nounced his first intentions, took me from the 
grammar school, and sent me to a school for wri- 
ting and arithmetic, kept by a Mr. George 
Brownwel, who was a skillful master, and suc- 
ceeded very well in his profession, by employing 
gentle means only, and such as were calculated 
to encourage his scholars. Under him I soon 
acquired an excellenthand; but I failed in arith- 
metic, and made therein no sort of progress. 

At ten years of age, I was called home to as- 
sist my father in his occupation, which was that 
of soap-boiler and tallow chandler; a business to 
which he had served no apprenticeship, but 
which he had embraced on his arrival in New- 
England, because he found his own, that of a 
dyer, in too little request to enable him to main- 
tain his family. I was accordingly employed in 
cutting the wicks and filling the moulds, taking 
care of the shop, carrying messages, &c. 

This business displeased me, and 1 felt a strong 
inclination for a sea life; but my father set his 
face against it. The vicinity of the waters, 
however, gave me frequent opportunities of ven- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 17 

turing myself, "both upon and within it, and I 
soon acquired the art of swimming-, and of man- 
aging a boat. When embarked jvith other chil- 
dren, the helm was commonly deputed to me, 
particularly on difficult occasions; and 5 in every 
other project. I was almost always the leader of 
the troop, whom I sometinles involved in era- 
barrasment. I shall give an instance of this, 
which demonstrates an early disposition of mind 
for public enterprises, though the one in ques- 
tion was not conducted by justice. 

The mill pond was terminated on one side by 
a marsh, upon the borders of which we were ac- 
customed to take our stand, at high water, to 
angle for small fish. By dint of walking, we had 
converted the place into a perfect quagmire. 
?vly proposal was to erect a wharf that should 
afford us firm footing; and I pointed out to my 
companions a large heap of stones, intended for 
the building of a new house near the marsh 3 and 
which were well adapted for our purpose. Ac- 
cordingly, when the workmen retired in the 
evening, I assembled a number of my playfel- 
lows, and by labouring diligently, like ants, some- 
times four of us uniting our strength to carry a 
single stone, we removed them all, arid con- 
structed our little quay. The workmen were 
surprised the next morning at not finding their 
stones, which had been conveyed to our wharf. 
Inquiries were made respecting the authors of 
this conveyance; we were discovered; complaints 
were exhibited against us; many of us underwent 
correction on the part of our parents, and though 
1 strenuously defended the utility of the work, 
my father at length convinced me, that nothing 
2* b2 



18 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

which was not strictly honest could be useful. 
It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to you 
to know what sort of a man my father was.— 
He had an excellent constitution, was of a mid- 
dle size, but well made and strong, and extreme- 
ly active in whatever he undertook. He design- 
ed with a degree of neatness, and knew a little 
of music. His voice was sonorous and agreea- 
ble; so that when he sung a psalm or hymn with 
accompaniment of his violin, as was his frequent 
practice in an evening, when the labors of the 
day were finished, it was truly delightful to hear 
him. He was versed also in mechanics; and 
could, upon occasion, use the tools of a variety 
of trades. But his greatest excellence was a 
sound understanding, and solid judgment in mat- 
ters of prudence, both in public and private life. 
In the former, indeed, he never engaged, be- 
cause his numerous family, and the mediocrity 
of his fortune, kept him unremittingly employed 
in the duties of his profession. But I very well 
remember, that the leading men of the place 
used frequently to come and ask his advice re- 
specting affairs of the town, or of the church to 
which he belonged , and that they paid much deffer- 
ence to his opinion. Individuals were also in 
the habit of consulting him in their private af- 
fairs; and he was often chosen arbiter between 
contending parties. 

He was fond of having at his table, as often as 
possible, some friends, or well informed neigh- 
bours, capable of rational conversation; and he 
was always careful to introduce useful or ingen- 
ious topics of discourse, which might tend to 
form the minds of his children. By this means, he 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 19 

early attracted our attention to what was just, 
prudent, and beneficial in the conduct of life. 
He never talked of the meats which appeared 
upon the table, never discussed whether they 
were well or ill dressed, of good or bad flavour, 
high seasoned or otherwise, preferable or inferi- 
or to this or that dish of similar kind. Tims ac- 
customed, from my infancy to the utmost inat- 
tention to these objects, I have always been per- 
fectly regardless of what kind of food was before 
me; and I pay so little attention to it, even now, 
that it would be a hard matter for "me to recol- 
lect, a few hours after I had dined, of what my 
dinner had consisted. When travelling, I have 
particularly experienced the advantage of this 
habit; for it has often happened to me to be in 
company with persons, who, having a more deli- 
cate, because a more exercised taste, have suf- 
fered in many cases considerable inconvenience; 
while as to myself, I have had nothing to desire. 

My mother was likewise possessed of an ex- 
cellent constitution. She suckled all her ten 
children, and I never heard either her or my 
father complain of any other disorder than that 
of which they died; — my father at the age of 
eighty-seven, and my mother at eighty-five. — 
They are buried together at Boston, where a few 
years ago I placed a marble over their grave 
with this inscription:— 

"Here lie Josiah Franklin and Abiah his 
wife. They lived together with reciprocal af- 
fection for fifty-nine years; and without private 
fortune, without lucrative employment, by assid- 
uous labour and honest industry, decently sup- 
ported a numerous family, and educated with 



20 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

success, thirteen children, and seven grand-chil- 
dren. Let this example, reader, encourage thee 
diligently to discharge the duties of thy calling, 
and to rely on the support of Divine Providence. 
He was pious and prudent — she discreet and 
virtuous. 

"Their youngest son, from a sentiment of filial 
duty consecrates this stone to their memory." 

I perceive by my rambling- digression, that I 
am growing old. But we do not dress for a pri- 
vate company as for a formal ball. This de- 
serves, perhaps, the name of negligence. 

To return. I thus continued employed in my 
father's trade for the space of two years; that is 
to say, till I arrived at twelve years of age. — 
About this time, my brother John, who had ser- 
ved his apprenticeship in London, having quitted 
his father, and being married and settled in bu- 
siness, on his own account, at Rhode-Island, I 
was destined to all appearance, to supply his 
place and be a candle-maker all my life; but my 
dislike of this occupation continuing, my father 
was apprehensive, that, if a more agreeable one 
were not offered me, I might play the truant, 
and escape to sea; as, to his extreme mortifica- 
tion, my brother Josias had done. He, tkere- 
fore, took me sometimes to see masons, coopers, 
glaziers, joiners, and other mechanics, employed 
at their work, in order to discover the bent of 
my inclination and fix it, if he could, upon some 
occupation that might retain me on shore. I 
have since, in consequence of these visits, de- 
rived no small pleasure in seeing skillful work- 
men handle their tools; and it has proved of con- 
siderable benefit, to have acquired thereby suf- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 21 

ficient knowledge to be able to make little 
things for myself, when I have had no mechanic 
at hand, and to construct small machines for my 
experiments, while the idea I have conceived 
has been fresh and strongly impressed on my 
imagination. 

My father at length decided that I should be 
a cutler, and I was placed for some days upon 
trial with my cousin Samuel, son of my uncle 
Benjamin, who had learned his trade in London, 
and had established himself at Boston. But the 
premium he required for my apprenticeship dis- 
pleasing my father, I was recalled home. 

From my earliest years I had been passion- 
ately fond of reading, and I laid out in books all 
the little money I could procure. I was partic- 
ularly pleased with accounts of voyages. My 
f rst acquisition was Bunyan's collection in small 
te^erate volumes. These I afterwards sold in 
>rder to buy an historical collection by R. Bur- 
:on, which consisted of small cheap volumes, 
amounting in all to about forty or fifty. My 
father's little library was principally made up of 
books practical and polemical theology. I read 
the greatest part of them. I have since often 
regretted, that at a time when I had so great a 
thirst for knowledge, more eligible books had 
not fallen into my hands, as it was then a point 
decided, that I should not he educated for the 
church. There was also among my father's 
books, Plutarch's Lives, in which I read contin- 
ually, and I still regard as advantageously em- 
ployed the time I devoted to them. I found be- 
sides a work of de Foe's entitled, An Essay on 
Projects, from which, perhaps, I derived impres- 



22 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

sions that have since influenced some of the prin* 
cipal events of my life. 

Myinclination for books at last determined 
my father to make me a printer, though he had 
already a son in that profession. My brother had 
returned from England' in 1717' with a press 
and types, in order to establish a printing house 
at Boston. This business pleased me much bet- 
ter than that of my father, though I had still a 
predilection for the sea. To prevent the effects 
which might result from this inclination, my fa- 
ther was anxious to see me engaged with my 
brother. I held back for some time; at length, 
however' I sufferd myself to be persuaded, and 
signed my indentures, being then, only twelve 
years of age. It was agreed that I should serve 
as an apprentice to the age of twenty-one, and 
should receive journeyman's wages only during 
the last year. 

In a very short time I made great proficiency 
in this buisness, and became very serviceable to 
my brother. I had now an opportunity of pro- 
curing better books. The acquaintance I neces- 
sarily formed with booksellers' apprentices, en- 
abled me to borrow a volume now and then, 
which I never failed to return punctually and 
without injury. How often has it happened to 
me to pass the greater part of the night in rea- 
ding, by my bed side, when the book had been 
lent me in the evening, and was to be returned 
the next morning, lest it might be missed or 
wanted. 

At length Mr. Matthew Adams, an ingenious 
tradesman, who had a handsome collection of 
books, and who frequented our printing house, 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 23 

took notice of n\e. He invited me to see his li- 
brary, and had the goodness to lend me any books 
I was desirous of reading. I then took a strange 
fancy for poetry and composed several little pie- 
ces. My brother thinking he might find his ac- 
count in it, encouraged me, and engaged me to 
write two ballads. One, called the Lighthouse 
Tragedy, contained an account of the shipwreck 
of Capt. Worthilake, and his twO daughters; the 
other was a sailor's song on the capture of the 
noted pirate called Teach, or Blackbeard. They 
were wretched verses, in point of style — mere 
blind men's ditties. When printed, he despatch- 
ed me about the town to sell them. The first 
had a prodigious run, because the event was re- 
cent and had made a great noise. 

My vanity was flattered by this success; but 
my father checked my exultation, by ridiculing 
my productions, and telling me that versifiers 
were always poor. I thus escaped the misfor- 
tune of being, probably, a very wretched poet. 
But as the faculty of writing prose has been of 
great service to me, in the course of my life, 
and principally contributed to my advancement, 
I shall relate by what means, situated as I was, 
I acquired the small skill I may possess in that 
way. v 

There was in the town another young man, a 
great lover of books, of the name of John Collins, 
with whom I was intimately connected. We 
frequently engaged in dispute, and indeed were 
so fond of argumentation, that nothing was so 
agreeable to us as a war of words. This conten- 
tious temper, I would observe, by the by, is in 
danger of becoming a very bad habit, and fre- 
quently renders a man's company insupportable, 



24 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

as being no otherwise capable of indulgence 
than by indiscriminate contradiction. Indepen- 
dently of the acrimony and discord it introduces 
into conversation, it is often productive of dis- 
like, and even hatred, between persons to whom 
friendship is indispensibly necessary. I acquired 
it by reading, while I lived with my father, books 
of religious controversy. I have since remarked 
that men of sense seldom fall into this error; 
lawyers, fellows of universities, and persons of 
every profession, educated at Edinburgh, ex- 
cepted. 

Collins and I fell one day into an argument 
relative to the education of women; namely, 
wether it was proper to instruct them in the 
sciences, and wether they were competent to 
the study. Collins supported the negative, and 
affirmed that the task was beyond their capacity. 
I maintained the opposite opinion, a little, per- 
haps, for the pleasure of disputing. He was nat- 
urally more eloquent than I; words flowed copi- 
ously from his lips; and frequently I thought my- 
self vanquished, more by his volubility than by 
the force of his arguments. We separated with- 
out coming to an agreement upon this point; and 
as we were not to see each other again for some 
time, I committed my thoughts to paper, made a 
fair copy and sent it to him. He answered, and 
I replied. Three or four letters had been writ- 
ten by each, when my father chanced to light 
upon my papers, and read them. Without enter- 
ing into the merits of the cause, he embraced the 
opportunity of speaking to me upon my manner 
of writing. He observed, that though I had the 
advantage of my adversary in correct spelling 
and pointing, which I owed to my occupation, I 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 25 

was greatly his inferior in elegance of expression, 
in arrangement and perspicuity. Of this he con- 
vinced me by several examples. I felt the jus- 
tice of his remarks, became more attentive to 
language, and resolved to make every effort to 
improve my style. Amidst these resolves, an 
odd volume of the Spectator fell into my hands. 
This was a publication I had never seen. I 
bought the volume, and read it again and again. 
I was enchanted with it — thought the style ex- 
cellent, and wished it were in my power to imi- 
tate it. With this view I selected some of the 
papers, made short summaries of the sense of 
each period, and put them for a few days aside. 
I then, without looking at the book, endeavour- 
ed to restore the essays to their due form, and 
to express each thought at length, as it was in 
the original, employing the most appropriate 
words that occurred to my mind. I afterwards 
compared my Spectator with the original; I per- 
ceived some faults, which I corrected; but I 
found that I wanted a fund of words, if I may so 
express myself, and a facility of recollecting and 
employing them, which I thought I should by 
that time have acquired, had I continued to 
make verses. The continual need of words of 
the same meaning, but of different lengths for the 
measure, or of different sounds for the Vhyme, 
would have obliged me to seek for a variety of 
synonymes, and have rendered me master of 
them. From this belief, I took some of the tales 
of the Spectator, and, turned them into verse^ 
and after a time, when I had sufficiently forgot- 
ten them, I again converted them into prose. 

Sometimes, also, I mingled all my summaries 
together; and a few weeks after, endeavoured to 
arrange them in the best order, before I at- 
3 B 



26 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

tempted to form the periods and complete the es- 
says. This I did with a view of acquiring meth- 
od in the arrangement of my thoughts. On com- 
paring afterwards, my performance with the ori- 
ginal, many faults were apparent, which I cor- 
rected; but I had sometimes the satisfaction to 
think, that in certain particulars, of little im- 
portance, I had been fortunate enough to im- 
prove the order of thought, or the style; and this 
encouraged me to hope that I should succeed, in 
time, in writing decently in the English language, 
which was one of the great objects of my ambition. 

The time which I devoted to these exercises, 
and to reading, was the evening after my day's 
labor was finished, the morning before it began, 
and Sundays, when I could escape attending di- 
vine service. While I lived with my father, he 
had insisted on my punctual attendance on pub- 
lic worship, and I still indeed considered it as a 
duty, but a duty which I thought I had no time 
to practice. 

When about sixteen years of age, a work of 
Tryon fell into my hands, in which he recom- 
mends vegetable diet. I determined to observe 
it. My brother, being a bachelor, did not keep 
house, but boarded with his apprentices in a 
neighboring family. My refusing to eat animal 
food was found inconvenient, and I was often 
scolded for my singularity. I attended to the 
mode in which Tyron prepared some of his dish- 
es, particularly how to boil potatoes and rice, 
and make hasty puddings. I then said to my 
brother, that if he would allow me per week, half 
what he paid for my board, I would undertake to 
maintain myself. The offer was instantly em 
braced, and I soon found that of what he gave 
me, I was able to save half. This was a new 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 27 

fund for the purchase of books; and other advan- 
tages resulted to me from the plan. When my 
brother and his workmen left the printing-house, 
to go to dinner, I remained behind; and des- 
patching my frugal meal, which frequently con- 
sisted of a biscuit only, or a slice of bread and a 
bunch of raisins, or a bun from the pastry-cook's, 
with a glass of water, I had the rest of the time 
till their return for study: and my progress 
therein, was proportioned to that clearness of 
ideas, and quickness of conception, which are 
the fruits of temperance in eatiug and drinking. 

It was about this period, that having one day 
been put to the blush for my ignorance in the art 
of calculation, which I had twice failed to learn 
while at school, I took Cocker's Treaties on 
Arithmetic, and went through it by myself with 
the utmost ease. I also read a book ef Naviga- 
tion by Seller and Sturmy, and made myself 
master of the little geometry it contains, but I 
never proceeded far in this science. Nearly at 
the same time, I read Locke on the Human Un- 
derstanding, and the Art of Thinking, by Messrs. 
Du Port Royal. 

While laboring to form and improve my style, 
I met with an English Grammar, which I believe 
was Greenwood's, having at the end of it two lit- 
tle essays on rhetoric and logic. In the latter 
I found a model of disputation after the manner 
of Socrates. Shortly after I procured Xeno- 
phon's work, entitled, Memorable Things of Soc- 
rates, in which are various examples of the same 
method. Charmed to a degree of enthusiasm 
with this mode of disputing, I adopted it, and 
renouncing blunt contradiction, and direct and 
positive argument, I assumed the character of a 
humble questioner. The perusal of Shaftsbury 
and Collins, had made me a skeptic; and being 



28 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

previously so as to many doctrines of Christian- 
ity, I found Socrates 3 method to be both the sa- 
fest for myself, as^well as the most embarrassing 
to those against whom I employed it. It soon 
afforded me singular pleasure; I incessantly prac- 
tised it, and became very adroit in obtaining, 
even from persons of superior understanding, 
concessions of which they did not foresee the 
consequences. Thus I involved them in difficul- 
ties from which they were unable to extricate 
themselves, and sometimes obtained victories, 
which neither my cause nor my arguments mer- 
ited. 

This method I continued to employ for some 
years; but I afterwards abandoned it by degrees, 
retaining only the habit of expressing myself 
with modest diffidence, and never making use, 
when J advanced my proposition which might be 
controverted, of the words certainly, undoubted- 
ly, or any others that might give the appearance 
of being obstinately attached to my opinion. 
I rather said, I imagine, I suppose, or it appears 
to me, that such a thing is so or so, for such and 
such reasons; or it is so, if I am not mistaken. 
This habit has, I think, been of considerable ad- 
vantage to me, when I had occasion to impress 
my opinion on the minds of others, and persuade 
them to the adoption of the measures I have sug- 
gested. And since the chief ends of conversa- 
tion are, to inform or to be informed, to please 
or to persuade, I could wish that intelligent and 
well-meaning men would not themselves dimin- 
ish the powers they possess of being useful, by a 
positive and presumtuous manner of expressing 
themselves, which scarcely ever fails to disgust 
the hearer, and is only calculated to excite op- 
position, and defeat every purpose for which the 
faculty of speech has been bestowed upon man. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 29 

In short, if you wish to inform, a positive and 
dogmatical manner of advancing your opinion 
may provoke contradiction, and prevent your be- 
ing heard with attention. On the other hand, if, 
with a desire of being informed, and of benefit- 
ting by the knowledge of others, you express 
yourselves as being strongly attached to your 
own opinions, modest and sensible men, who do 
not love disputation, will leave you in tranquil 
possession of your errors. By following such a 
method, you can rarely hope to please your audi- 
tors, conciliate their good will, or work convic- 
tion on those whom you may be desirous of gain- 
ing over to your views. Pope judiciously ob- 
serves, 

Men must be taught as if you taught them not, 
And things unknown, propos'd as things forgot. 

And in the same poem he afterwards advises us, 

To speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence. 
He might have added to these lines, one that he 
has coupled elsewhere, in my opinion, with less 
propriety. It is this: 

For want of decency is want of sense* 
If you ask why I say, with less propriety, I must 
give you the two lines together: . 

Immodest words admit of no defence, 

For want of decency, is want of sense. 

i 
Now, want of sense, when a man has the misfor- 
tune to be so circumstanced, is it not a kind of 
excuse for want of modesty'? And would not the 
verses have been more accurate, if they had been 
constructed thus: 

• Immodest words admit hut this defence 
That want of decency is want of sense? 

But I leave the dicision of this to better judges 
than myself. 
3* 



30 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

In 1720 or 1721, my brother began to print a 
new public paper. It was the second that made 
its appearance in America, and was entitled the 
" New- En gland Courant." Tbe only one that ex- 
isted before was the " Boston News-Letter ." Some 
of his friends, I remember, would have dissuaded 
him from this undertaking, as a thing that was 
not likely to succeed; a single newspaper being, 
in their opinion, sufficient for all America. At 
present, however, in 1771, there are no less than 
twenty-five. But he carried his project into ex- 
ecution and I was employed in distributing the 
copies to his customers, after having assisted in 
composing and working them off. 

Among his friends he had a number of literary 
characters, who, as an amusement, wrote short 
essays for the paper, which gave it reputation 
and increased tbe sale. These gentlemen fre- 
quently came to our house. I heard the conversa- 
tion that passed, and the accounts they gave of 
the favorable reception of their writings with the 
public. I was tempted to try my hand among 
them; but, being still a child as it were, I was 
fearful that my brother might be unwilling to 
print in his paper any performance of which he 
should know me to be the author. I therefore 
contrived to disguise my hand; and having writ- 
ten an anonymous piece, I placed it at night un- 
der the door of tbe printing-house, where it was 
found the next morning. My brother communi- 
cated it to his friends, when they came as usual 
to see him, who read it, commented upon it with- 
in my hearing, and I had the exquisite pleasure 
to find that it met with their approbation; and 
that, in their various conjectures they made res- 
pecting the author, no one was mentioned who 
did not enjoy a high reputation in the country 
for talents and genius. I now supposed myself 



LTFE OF FRANKLIN, 31 

fortunate in my judges, and began to suspect 
that they were not such excellent writers as I 
had hitherto supposed them. Be that as it may, 
encouraged by this little adventure, I wrote and 
sent to the press, in the same way, many other 
pieces, which were equally approved; keeping* 
the secret till my slender stock of information 
aDd knowledge for such performances was pretty 
completely exhausted, when I made myself 
known. 

My brother, upon this discovery, began to en- ' 
tertain a little more respect forme; but he still re- 
garded himself as my master, and treated me as 
an apprentice. He thought himself entitled to the 
same services from me, as from any other person. 
On the contrary, I conceived that, in many in- 
stances, he was too rigorous, and that, on the part 
of a brother, I had a right to expect greater in- 
dulgence. Our disputes were frequently brought 
before my father; and either my brother wa's gen- 
erally in the wrong, or I was the better pleader 
of the two,- for judgement was commonly given in 
my favour. Bat my brother was passionate, and 
often had recourse to blows; — a circumstance 
which I took in very ill part. This severe and ty- 
rannical treatmentcontributed, I believe, to im- 
print on my mind that aversion to arbitrary pow- 
er, which, during my whole life, I have ever pre- 
served. My apprenticeship became insupporta- 
ble to me, and I continually sighed for an oppor- 
tunity of shortening it; — which at length, unex- 
pectedly, offered. 

An article, inserted in our paper upon some po- 
litical subject, which I have now forgotten, gave 
offence to the assembly. My brother was taken 
into custody, censured, and ordered into confine- 
ment for a month, because, as I presume, he 
would not discover the author. I was also taken 



32 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

tip: and examined before the council; but, though 
I gave them no satisfaction, they contented them- 
selves w\th reprimanding, and then dismissed me; 
considering me, probably, as bound, in quality 
of an apprentice, to keep my master's secrets. 

The imprisonment of my brother, kindled my 
resentment, notwithstanding our private quar- 
rels. During its continuance the managementof 
the paper was intrusted to me, and I was bold e- 
nough to insert some pasquinades against the gov- 
ernors; which highly pleased my brother, while 
others began to look upon me in an unfavourable 
point of view, considering me as a young wit, in- 
clined to satire and lampoon. 

My brother's enlargement was accompanied 
with an arbitrary order from the house of assem- 
bly, "That James Franklin should no longer 
print the newspaper entitled the New England 
Con rani." In this conjuncture, we held a con- 
sultation of our friends at the printing-house, in 
order to determine what was proper to be done. 
Some proposed to evade the order, by changing 
'the title of the paper; but my brother, foreseeing 
inconveniences, that would result from this step, 
thought it better that it should in future be prin- 
ted in the name of Benjamin Franklin; and to a- 
vold the censure of the assembly, who might 
charge him with still printing the paper himself, 
under the name of his apprentice, it was resolved 
that my old indentures should be given up to me, 
with a full and entire discharge, written on the 
back, in order to be produced upon an emergency; 
but that, to secure to my brother the benefit of my 
service, I should sign a new contract, which should 
be kept secret during the remainder of the term. 
This was a very shallow arrangement. It was, 
however, carried into immediate execution, and 
the paper continued, in consequence, to make 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 33 

its appearance for some months in my name. 

At length, a new difference arising- between 
my brother and me, I ventured to take advantage 
of my liberty, presuming that he would not dare 
to produce the new contract. It was undoubt- 
edly dishonorable to avail myself of this circum- 
stance, and I reckon this action as one of the 
first errors of my life; but I was little capable of 
estimating it at its true value, embittered as my 
mind had been by the recollection of the blows I 
had received. Exclusively of his passionate treat- 
ment of me, my brother was by no means a man 
of an ill temper, and perhaps my manners had 
too much impertinence not to afford it a very 
natural pretext. 

When he knew that it was my determination 
to quit him, he wished to prevent my finding em- 
ployment elsewhere. He went to all the print- 
ing-houses in the town, and prejudiced the mas- 
ters against me; who accordingly refused to em- 
ploy me. The idea then suggested itself to me 
of going to New- York, the nearest town in which 
was a printing-office. Farther reflection con- 
firmed me in the design of leaving Boston, where 
I had already rendered myself an object of suspi- 
cion to the governing party. It was probable, 
from the arbitrary proceedings of the assembly in 
the affair of my brotner, that, by remaining, I 
should soon have been exposed to difficulties, which 
I had the greatest reason to apprehend, as, from 
my indiscreet disputes upon the subject of reli- 
gion, I began to be regarded by pious souls, with 
horror, either as an apostate or an atheist. I came, 
therefore, to a resolution; but my father, in this 
instance, siding with my brother, I presumed that 
if I attempted to depart openly, measures would 
be taken to prevent me. My friend Collins un- 
dertook to favor my flight. 
b2 



34 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

He agreed for my passage with the captain of 
a New-York sloop, to whom lie represented me 
as a young man of his acquaintance, who had 
had an alfair with a girl of bad character, whose 
parents wished to compel me to marry her, and 
that of consequence I could neither make my 
appearance, nor go oil publicly. I sold part of 
my books to procure a small sunt of money, and 
went privately on board the sloop. By favor of 
a good wind, I found myself in three days at 
New-York, nearly three hundred miles from my 
home, at the age of seventeen, without knowing 
an individual in the place, and with very little 
money in my pocket. 

The inclination I had felt for a seafaring life 
had entirely subsided, or I should now have been 
able to gratify it; but having another trade, and 
believing myself to he a tolerable workman, 
F hesitated notto offer my services to the old Mr. 
William Bradford, who had been the first Prin- 
ter in Pennsylvania, but had quitted the pro- 
vince on account of a quarrel with George Keith, 
the governor. He could not give me employment 
himself, having little to do, and already as many 
persons as he wanted: but he told me that his 
son, printer at Philadelphia, had lately lost his 
principal workman, Aquila Rose, who was dead, 
and that if I would go thither he believed that he 
wouldengageme. Philadelphia was a hundred 
miles further. I hesitated not to embark in a 
boat, in order to repair, by the shortest cut of the 
sea, to Amboy, leaving my trunk and effects to 
come after me by the usual and more tedious 
conveyauce. Tn crossing the bay we met with 
a squall, which shattered to pieces, our rotten 
sails, and prevented us from entering the KilJ 
and threw us upon Long-Island. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 35 

During the squall, a drunken Dutchman, who 
like myself was a passenger in the boat, fell into 
the sea. At the moment when he was sinking", 
I seized him by the fore-top, saved him, and 
drew him on board. This immersion sobered him 
a little, so that he fell asleep, after having taken 
from his pocket a volume, which he requested 
me to dry. This volume, I found to be my old 
favorite work, Bunyan's Pilgrim, in Dutch, a 
beautiful impression on fine paper, with copper- 
plate engravings; a dress in which I had never seen 
it in its original language. I have since learn- 
ed that it has been translated. into almost all the 
languages of Europe, and next to the bible, I am 
persuaded it is one of the books, which has had 
the greatest spread. Honest John is the first 
that I know of, who has mixed narrative and di- 
alogue together; a mode of writing Very engag- 
ing to the reader, who, in the most interesting 
passages, finds himself admitted, as it were, into 
the company, and present at the conversation. 
De Foe has imitated it with success in his 
Robinson Crusoe, Ids Moll Flanders, and other 
works, as also Richardson in his Pamela, &c. 

In approaching the island, we found that we 
had made a part of the coast where it was not 
possible to land, on account of the strong break- 
ers produced by the rocky shore. We cast an- 
chor and veered the cable towards the shore. 
Some men, who stood upon the brink, halloed to 
us, while we did the same on our part; but 
the wind was so high, and the waves so noisy, that 
we could neither of us hear each other. There 
were some canoes upon the banks, and we called 
out to them, and made signs to prevail on them to 
come and take us up; but either they did not un- 
derstand us, or they deemed our request imprac- 
ticable, and withdrew. Night came on, and 



36 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

nothing remained for us, but to wait quietly the 
subsiding of the wind; till when, we determined, 
(that is, the pilot and I,) to sleep if possible. 
For that purpose we went below the hatches, 
along with the Dutchman, who was drenched with 
water. The sea broke over the boat, and reached 
us in our retreat, so that we were presently as 
completely drenched as he. 

We had very little repose during the whole 
night; but the wind abating, the next day we 
succeeded in reaching Amboy before it was dark, 
after having passed thirty hours without provi- 
sions, and with no other drink than a bottle of 
bad rum, the water upon which we rowed being 
salt. In the evening I went to bed with a very 
violent fever. I had somewhere read, that cold, 
water, drank plentifully, was a remedy in such 
cases. I followed the prescription — was in a 
profuse sweat for the greater part of the night, 
and the fever left me. The next day I crossed 
the river in a ferry-boat, and continued my jour- 
ney on foot. I had fifty miles to walk, in order 
to reach Burlington; where I was told I should 
find passage boats that would convey me to Phil- 
adelphia. It rained hard the whole day, so that 
I was wet to the skin. Finding myself fatigued, 
about noon I stopped at a paltry inn, where I 
passed the rest of the day and the whole night — 
beginning to regret that I had quitted my home. 
I made besides so wretched a figure, that I was 
suspected to be some runaway servant. This I 
discovered by the questions that were asked me; 
and I felt that I was every moment in danger of 
being taken up as such. The next day, however, 
I continued my journey, and arrived in the even- 
ing at an inn, eight or ten miles from Burlington, 
that was kept by one Dr. Brown. 

This man entered into conversation with me, 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 37 

while I took some refreshment, and perceiving 
that I had read a little, he expressed towards me 
considerable interest and friendship. Our ac- 
quaintance continued during the remainder of his 
life. I believe him to be what is called an itinerant 
doctor; for there was no town in England, or in- 
deed in Europe, of which he could not give a par- 
ticular account. He was neither deficient in 
understanding, nor literature; but he was a sad 
infidel; and, some years after, wickedly undertook 
to travesty the Bible in burlesque verse, as Cot- 
ton has travestied Virgil. He exhibited, by this 
means, many facts in a' very ludicrous point of 
view, which would have given umbrage to weak 
minds, had his work been published, which it 
never was. 

I spent the night at his house, and reached 
Burlington the next morning. On my arrival, 
I had the mortification to learn that the ordinary 
passage-boats had sailed a little before. This 
was on Saturday, and there would be no other 
boat till the Tuesday following. I returned to 
the house of an old woman in the town who had 
sold me some gingerbread to eat on my passage, 
and I asked her advice. She invited me to take 
up my abode with her till an opportunity offered 
for me to embark. Fatigued with having tra- 
velled so far on foot, I accepted her invitation. 
When she understood that I was a printer, she 
would have persuaded me to stay at Burlington, 
and set up my trade; but she was little aware of 
the capital that would be necessary for such a 
purpose! I was treated while at her house with 
true hospitality. She gave me, with the utmost 
good will, a dinner of beefsteaks, and would ac- 
cept of nothing in return but a pint of ale. 

Here I imagined myself to be fixed till the 
Tuesday in the ensuing week; but, walking out 
4 



38 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

in the evening by the river side, I saw a boat 
with a number of persons in it approach. It was 
going - to Philadelphia, and the company took me 
in. As there was no wind, we could only make 
way with our oars. About midnight, not per- 
ceiving the town, some of the company were of 
opinion that we must have passed it, and were 
unwilling to row any farther; the rest not know- 
ing where we were, it was resolved that we 
should stop. We drew towards the shore, enter- 
ed a creek, and landed near some old palisades, 
which served us for fire-wood, it being a cold 
night in October. Here we staid till day, when 
one of the company found the place in which we 
were to be Cooper's Creek, a little above Phila- 
delphia, which, in reality, we perceived the mo- 
ment we were out of the creek. We arrived on 
Sunday about eight or nine o'clock in the morn- 
ing, and landed on Market Street wharf. 

I have entered into the particulars of my voy- 
age, and shall, in like manner, describe my first 
entrance into this city, that you may be able to 
compare beginnings so little auspicious, with the 
figure I have since made. 

On my arrival at Philadelphia I was in my 
working dress, my best clothes being to come 
by sea. I was covered with dirt; my pockets 
were filled with shirts and stockings; I was unac- 
quainted with a single soul in the place, and 
knew not where to seek for a lodging. Fa- 
tigued with walking, rowing, and having pas- 
sed the night without sleep, I was extremely 
hungry, and all my money consisted of a Dutch 
dollar, and about a shilling's worth of coppers, 
which I gave to the boatmen for my passage. 
As I had assisted them in rowing, they refused it 
at first; but I insisted on their taking it. A man 
is sometimes more generous when he has little 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 39 

than when he has much money; probably because, 
in the first case, he is desirous of concealing his 
poverty. 

I walked towards the top of the street, looking 
eagerly on both sides, till I came to Market street, 
where I met with a child with a loaf of bread. Of- 
ten had I made my dinner on dry bread. I inquired 
where he had bought it, and went straight to the 
baker's shop which he pointed out to me. ' I ask- 
ed for some biscuits, expecting to find such as 
we had at Boston; bu1 they made, it seems, none 
of that sort at Philadelphia. I then asked for a 
threepenny loaf. They made no loaves of that 
price. Finding myself ignorant of the prices, as 
well as the different kinds of bread, I desired 
him to let me have threepenny-worth of bread 
of some kind or other. He gave me three large 
rolls. 1 was surprised at receiving so much : I 
took them, however, and having no room in my 
pockets, I walked on with a roll under each arm, 
eating the third. In this manner I went through 
Market Street to Fourth Street, and passed the 
house of Mr. Read, the father of my future wife. 
She was standing at the door, observed me, and 
thought with reason, that I made a very singular 
and grotesque appearance. 

I then turned the corner, and went through 
Chestnut Street, eating my roll ail the way; and 
having made this round, I found myself again on 
Market Street wharf, near the boat in which I 
arrived. I stepped into it to take a draught of 
the river water; and -finding myself satisfied with 
my first roll, I gave the other two to a woman 
and her child, who had come down the river with 
us in the boat, and was waiting to continue her 
journey. Thus refreshed, I regained the street, 
which was now full of well-dressed people, all 
going the same way. I joined them, and was 



40 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

thus led to a large Quaker's meeting-house near 
the market-place. I sat down with the rest, 
and, after looking round 'me for some time, hear- 
ing nothing said, and being- drowsy from my last 
night's labor and want of rest, I fell into a 
sound sleep. In this, slate I continued till the 
assembly dispersed, when one of the congrega- 
tion had the goodness to wake me. This was 
consequently the first house I entered, or in 
which I slept at Philadelphia. 

I began again to walk along the street, by the 
riverside; and, looking attentively in the face 
of every one I met with, I at length perceived a 
young Quaker whose countenance pleased me. 
I accosted him, and begged him to inform me 
where a stranger might find a lodging. We 
were then near the sign of the Three Mariners. 
They receive travellers here, said he, but it is 
not a house that bears a good character; if you 
will go with me, I will show you a better one 
He conducted me to the Crooked Billet, in Wa- 
ter Street. There I ordered something for din- 
ner, and during my meal, a number of curious 
questions were put to me; my youth and appear 
ance exciting the suspicion of my being a runa 
way. After dinner my drowsiness returned, and 
I threw myself upon a bed without taking off my 
clothes, and slept till six o'clock in the evening, 
when I was called to supper. I afterwards went 
to bed at a very early hour-, and did not awake 
till the next morning. 

As soon as I got up I put myself in as decent 
a trim as I could, and went to the house of An- 
drew Bradford, the printer. I found his father 
in the shop, whom I had seen at New York. 
Having travelled on horseback, he had arrived 
at Philadelphia before me. He introduced me 
to his son, who received me with civility, and gave 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 41 

me some breakfast; but told me he had no occa- . 
sion at present for a journeyman, having lately 
procured one. He added, that there was ano- 
ther printer newly settled in the town, of the 
name of Keimer, who might perhaps employ me; 
and that in case of refusal, I should be welcome 
to lodge at his house, and he would give me a 
little work now and then, till something better 
should offer. 

The old man offered to introduce me to the 
new printer. When we were dt his house, 
"Neighbor," said he, "I bring you a young 
man in the printing business; perhaps you may 
have need of his services." 

Keimer asked me some questions, put a com- 
posing stick in my hand to see how I could 
work, and then said, that at present he had no- 
thing for me to do, but that he should soon be 
able to employ me. At the same time taking 
old Bradford for an inhabitant of the town well 
disposed towards him, he communicated his 
project to him, and the prospect he had of 
success. Bradford was careful not to disco- 
ver that he was the father of the other printer; 
and from what Keimer had said, that he hoped 
shortly to be in possession of the greater part of 
the business of the town, led him, by artful ques- 
tions, and by starting some difficulties, to dis- 
close all his views, what his hopes -were founded 
upon, and how he intended to proceed. I was 
present, and heard it all. 1 instantly saw that 
one of the two was a cunning old fox, and the 
other a perfect novice. Bradford left me with 
Keimer, who was strangely surprised when I 
informed him who the old man was. 

I found Keimer's printing materials to consist 
of an old, damaged press, and a small fount of 
worn-out English letters, with which he himself 
4 * 



42 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

was at work upon an elegy upon Aquilla Rose, 
whom I have mentioned above, an ingenious 
young man, and of an excellent character, highly 
esteemed in the town, secretary to the Assem- 
bly, and a very tolerable poet. Keimer aLso 
made verses, but they were indifferent ones. 
He could not be said to write in verse, for his 
method was to set the lines as they flowed from 
his muse; and as he worked without copy, had 
but one set of letter-cases, and the elegy would 
occupy all his types, it was impossible for any 
one to assist him. I endeavored to put his press 
in order, which he had not yet used, and of 
which indeed he understood nothing: and, hav- 
ing promised to come and work off his elegy as 
soon as it should be ready, I returned to th,e 
house of Bradford, who gave me some trifles to 
do for the present, for which I had my board and 
lodging. 

In a few days Keimer sent for me to print off 
his elegy. He had now procured another set of 
letter-cases, and had a pamphlet to reprint, upon 
which he set me to work. 

The two Philadelphia printers appeared des- 
titute of every qualification necessary in their 
profession. Bradford had not been brought up 
to it, and was very illiterate. Keimer, though 
he understood a little of the business, was merely 
a compositor, and wholly incapable of working 
at Press. He had been one of the French pro- 
phets, and knew how to imitate their supernatu- 
ral agitations. At the time of our first acquain- 
tance he professed no particular religion, but a 
little of all upon occasion. He was totally igno- 
rant of the world, and a great knave at heart, as 
I had afterwards an opportunity of experiencing. 

Keimer could not endure that, working with 
him, I should lodge at Bradford's. He had in- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 43 

deed a house, but it was unfurnished; so that he 
could not take me in. He procured me a lodg- 
ing at Mr. Read's, his landlord, whom I have al- 
ready mentioned. My trunk and effects being" 
now arrived, 1 thought of making, in the eyes of 
Miss Read, a more respectable appearance than 
when chance exhibited me to her view, eating 
my roll, and wandering in the streets. 

From this period I began to contract acquain- 
tance with such young people as were fond of 
reading, and spent my evenings with them 
agreeably, while at the same time I gained mo- 
ney by my -industry, and, thanks to my frugality, 
lived contentedly. I thus forgot Boston as much 
as possible, and wished every one to be ignorant 
of the place ofmy residence,except my friend Col- 
lins, to whom I wrote, and who kept my secret. 

An incident however arrived, which sent me 
home much sooner than I had proposed. I had 
a brother-in-law, of the name of Robert Holmes, 
master of a trading sloop from Boston to Dela- 
aware. Being at Newcastle, forty miles below 
Philadelphia, he heard of me, and wrote to in- 
form me of the chagrin which my sudden depar- 
ture from Boston had occasioned my parents, 
and of the affection which they still entertained 
for me, assuring me that, if I would return, eve 
ry thing should be adjusted to my satisfaction; 
and he was very pressing in his intreaties. I 
answered his letter, thanked him for his advice, 
and explained the reasons which had induced 
me to quit Boston, with such force and clearness, 
that he was convinced I had been less to blame 
than he had imagined. 

Sir William Keith, Governor of the province, 
was at Newcastle at the time. Captain Holmes, 
being by chance in his company when he re- 
ceived my letter, took occasion to speak of me 



44 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

and showed it him. The Governor read it, and 
appeared surprised when he learned my age. 
He thought me, he said, a young man of very 
promising talents, and that of consequence, I 
ought to be encouraged; that there were at 
Philadelphia none but very ignorant printers, 
and that if I were to set up for myself, he had no 
doubt of my success; that, for his own part, he 
would procure me all the public business, and 
would render me every other service in his pow- 
er. My brother-in-law related all this to me af- 
terwards at Boston; but I knew nothing of it at 
the time; when one day Keimer and I, being at 
work together near the window, we saw the Gov- 
ernor and another gentleman, Colonel French, 
of Newcastle, handsomely dressed, cross the 
street, and make directly for our house. We 
heard thern at the door, and Keimer, believing 
it to be a visit to himself, went immediately 
down: but the Governor enquired for me, came 
up stairs, and, with a condescension and polite- 
ness to which I had not at all been accustomed, 
paid me many compliments, desired to be ac- 
quainted with me, obligingly reproached me for 
not having made myself known to him on my ar- 
rival in the town, and wished me to accompany 
him to a tavern, where he and Colonel French 
were going to taste some excellent Madeira wine. 
I was, I confess, somewhat surprised, and Kei- 
mer appeared thunderstruck. I went, however, 
with the Governor and the Colonel to a tavern, 
at the corner of Third Street, where, while we 
were drinking the Madeira, he proposed to me 
to establish a printing-house. He set forth the 
probabilities of success, and himself and Colonel 
French assured me that I should have their pro- 
tection and influence in obtaining the printing" 
of the public papers of both governments; an'l 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 45 

as I appeared to doubt whether my father would 
assist me in this enterprise, Sir William said 
that he would give me a letter to him, in which 
he would represent the advantages of the scheme, 
in a light which he had no doubt would determine 
him. It was thus concluded that I should return 
to Boston by the first vessel with the letter of 
recommendation, from the Governor to my fa- 
ther. Meanwhile the project was to be kept 
secret, and I continued to work for Keimer as 
before. 

The Governor sent every now and then to in- 
vite me to dine with him. I considered this as 
a very great honor; and I was the more sensible 
of it, as he conversed with me in the most affa- 
ble, familiar, and friendly manner imaginable. 

Towards the end of April, 1724, a small ves- 
sel was ready to sail for Boston. I took leave 
of Keimer, upon the pretext of going to see my 
parents. The Governor gave me a long letter, 
in which he said many flattering- things of me to 
my father; and strongly recommended the pro- 
ject of my settling at Philadelphia, as a thing- 
which could not fail to make my fortune. 

Going down the bay we struck on a flat, and 
sprung a leak. The weather was very tempes- 
tuous, and we were obliged to pump without in- 
termission; I took my turn. We arrived, how- 
ever, safe and sound, at Boston, after about a 
fortnight's pas-sage. 

1 had been absent seven complete months, and 
my relations, during that interval, had received 
no intelligence of me; for my brother-in-law, 
Holmes, was not yet returned, and had not writ- 
ten about me. My unexpected appearance sur- 
prised the family; but they were all delighted at 
seeing- me again, and except my brother wel- 
comed me home. I went to him at the printing- 



46 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

house. I was hotter dressed than I had ever 
been while in his service: I had a complete suit 
of clothes, new and neat, a watch in my pocket, 
and my purse was furnished with nearly five 
pounds sterling in money. He gave me no very 
civil reception; and, having eyed me from head 
to foot, resumed his work. 

The workmen asked me with eagerness where 
I had been, what sort of a country it was, and 
how I liked it. I spoke in the highest terms of 
Philadelphia, the happy life we led there, and 
expressed my intention of going back again. 
One of them asking what sort of money we had, 
I displayed before them a handful of silver, which 
I drew from my pocket. This was a curiosity 
to which they were not accustomed, paper being 
the current money at Boston. I failed not after 
this to let them see my watch; and, at last, my 
brother continuing sullen and out of humor, I 
gave them a shilling to drink, and took my leave. 
This visit stung my brother to the soul; for when, 
shortly after, my mother spoke to him of a re- 
conciliation, and a desire to see us upon good 
terms, he told her that I had so insulted him be- 
fore his men, that he would never forget or for- 
give it: in this, however, he was mistaken. 

The Governor's letter appeared to excite in 
my father some surprise; but he said little. Af- 
ter some days, Captain Holmes being returned, 
he showed it him, asking him if he knew Keith, 
and what sort of a man he was: adding, that, in 
his opinion, yit proved very little discernment to 
think of setting up a boy in business, who, for 
three years to come, would not be of an age to 
be ranked in the class of men. Holmes said 
every thing he could in favor of the scheme; but 
my father firmly maintained its absurdity, and 
at last gave a positive refusal. He wrote, how 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 47 

ever a civil letter to Sir William, thanking him 
for the protection he had so obligingly offered 
me, but refusing to assist me for the present, 
because he thought me too young to be intrusted 
with the conduct of so important an enterprise, 
and which would require so considerable a sum 
of money. 

My old comrade, Collins, who was a clerk in 
the post-office, charmed' with the account I gave 
of my new residence, expressed a desire of going 
thither; and, while I waited my father's deter- 
mination, he set off before me by land for Rhode 
Island, leaving his books, which formed a hand- 
some collection in mathematics and natural phi- 
losophy, to be conveyed with mine to New York, 
where he proposed to wait for me. 

My father, though he could not approve Sir 
William's proposal, was yet pleased that I had 
obtained so advantageous a recommendation as 
that of a person of his rank, and that my industry 
and economy had enabled me to equip myself so 
handsomely in so short a period. Seeing no ap- 
pearance of accommodating matters between 
my brother and me, he consented to my return 
to Philadelphia, advised me to be civil to every 
body, to endeavor to obtain general esteem, and 
avoid satire and sarcasm, to which he thought I 
was too much inclined; adding, that with perse- 
verance and prudent economy, I might, by the 
time I became of age, save enough to establish 
myself in business; and that if a small sum should 
then be wanting, he would undertake to supply it. 

This was all I could obtain from him, except 
some trifling presents, in token, of friendship 
from him and my mother. I embarked once 
more for New York, furnished at this time with 
their approbation and blessing. The sloop ha- 
ving touched at Newport, in Rhode Island, I 



48 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

paid a visit to my brother John, who had for 
some years been settled there, and was married. 
He had always been attached to me, and ha re- 
ceived me with great affection. One of his 
friends, whose name was Vernon, having a debt 
of about thirty-six pounds due to him in Penn- 
sylvania, begged me to receive it for him, and 
to keep the money till I should hear from him : 
accordingly he gave me an order for that pur- 
pose. This affair occasioned me, in the sequel, 
much uneasiness. 

At Newport we took on board a 1 number of 
passengers; among whom were two young women, 
and a grave and sensible Quaker lady with her 
servants. I had shown an obliging forwardness 
in rendering the Quaker some trilling services, 
which led her, probably, to feel an interest in 
my welfare; for when she saw a familiarity take- 
place, and every day increase, between the two 
young women and me, she took me aside, and said, 
"Young man, I am in pain for thee. Thou hast 
no parent to watch over thy conduct, and thou 
seemest to be ignorant of the world, and the 
snares to which youth is exposed. Rely upon 
what I tell thee : those are women of bad char- 
acters; I perceive it in all their actions. If thou 
dost not take care, they will lead thee into dan- 
ger. They are strangers to thee, and I advise 
thee, by the friendly interest I take in thy pres- 
ervation, to form no connection with them." 
As I appeared at first not to think quite so ill of 
them as she did, she related many things she had 
seen and heard, which had escaped my attention, 
but which convinced me that she was in the 
right. I thanked her for her obliging advice, 
and promised to follow it. 

When we arrived at New York, they inform- 
ed me where they lodged, and invited me to 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 49 

come and see them. I did not however go, and 
it was well I did not; for^the next day, the Cap- 
tain missing a silver spoon and some other things 
which had been taken from the cabin, and know- 
ing these women to be prostitutes, procured a" 
search-warrant, found the stolen' goods upon 
them, and had them punished. And thus, after 
having been saved from one rock concealed 
under water, upon which the vessel struck dur- 
ing our passage, I escaped another of a still 
more dangerous nature. 

At New York I found my friend Collins, who 
had arrived some time before. We had been in- 
timate from our infancy, and had read the same 
books together; but he had the advantage of be- 
ing able to devote more time to reading and 
study, and an astonishing disposition for mathe- 
matics, in which he left me far behind him. 
When at Boston, I had been accustomed to pass 
with him almost all my leisure hours. He was 
then a sober and industrious lad; his knowledge 
had gained him a very general esteem, and he 
seemed to promise to make an advantageous figure 
in society. But, during my absence, he had un- 
fortunately addicted himself to brandy, and I 
learned, as well from himself as from the report 
of others that every day since' his arrival at New 
York he had been intoxicated, and had acted in 
a very extravagant manner. He had also played 
and lost all his money; so that I was obliged to 
pay his expenses at the inn, and to maintain him 
during the rest of his journey; a burthen that 
was very inconvenient to me. 

The Governor of New York, whose name was 
Bernet, hearing the Captain say, that a young 
man who was a passenger in his ship had a great 
number of books, begged him to bring me to his 
house. I accordingly went, and should have 
5 C 



50 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

taken Collins with me, had he been sober. The 
Go/ernor treated me with great civility, showed 
me his library, which was a very considerable 
one, and we talked for some time upon books 
and authors. This was the second Governor who 
had honored me with his attention; and, to a 
poor boy, as I was then, these little adventures 
did not fail to be pleasing'. 

We arrived at Philadelphia. On the way I 
received Vernon's money, without which we 
should have been unable to have finished our 
journey. 

Collins wished to get employment as a mer- 
chant's clerk; but either his breath or his coun- 
tenance betrayed his bad habit; for, though he 
had recommendations, he met with no success, 
and continued to lodge and eat with rne, and at 
my expense. Knowing that I had Vernon's 
money, he was continually asking me to lend 
him some of it; promising to repay me as soon as 
he should get employment. At last he had drawn 
so much of this money, that I was extremely 
alarmed at what might become of me, should he 
fail to make good the deficiency. His habit of 
drinking did not at all diminish, and was a fre- 
quent source of discord between us; for when 
he had drunk a little too much, he was very 
headstrong. 

Being one day in a boat together, on the Del- 
aware, with some other young persons, he refus- 
ed to take his turn in rowing. "You shall row 
for me, " said he, " till we get home. " — " No, " 
I replied, "we will not row for you." — "You 
shall," said he, "or remain upon the water all 
night." — "As you please." Let us row, said 
the rest of the company; what signifies whether 
he assists or not. But, already angry with him 
for his conduct in other respects, I persisted in 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 51 

my refusal. He then swore that he would make 
me row, or would throw me out of the boat; and 
he made up to me. As soon as he was within 
my reach, I took him by the collar, gave him a 
violent thrust, and threw him headforemost into 
the river. I knew that he was a good swimmer, 
and was therefore under no apprehensions for his 
life. Before he could turn himself, we were 
able, by a few strokes of our oars, to place our- 
selves out of his reach; and, whenever he touch- 
ed the boat, we asked him if he would row, 
striking his hands at the same time with the oars 
to make him let go his hold. He was nearly suf- 
focated with rage, but obstinately refused: mak- 
ing any promise to row. Perceiving, at length, 
that his strength began to be exhausted, we took 
him into the boat, and conveyed him home in 
the evening completely drenched. The utmost 
coldness subsisted between us after this adven- 
ture. At last the Captain of a West-India ship, 
who was commissioned to procure a tutor for the 
children of a gentleman at Barbadoes, meeting 
with Collins, offered him the place. He accept- 
ed it, and took his leave of me, promising to dis- 
charge the debt he owed me with the first money 
he should receive; but I have heard nothing of 
him since. 

The violation of the trust reposed in me by 
Vernon was one of the firs£ great errors of my 
life; and it proves that my father was not mis- 
taken when he supposed me too young to be in- 
trusted with the management of important affairs. 
But Sir William, upon reading his letter, thought 
him too prudent. There was a difference, he 
said, between individuals: years of maturity 
were not always accompanied with discretion, 
neither was youth in every instance devoid of 
it. "Since your father, " added he, " will not 



52 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

set you np in business, I will do it myself. Make 
out a list of what will be wanted from England, 
and I will send for the articles. You shall repay 
me when you can. I am determined to have a 
good printer here, and I am sure you Avill suc- 
ceed." This was said with so much seeming cor- 
diality, that I suspected not for an instant the 
sincerity of the offer. I had hitherto kept the 
project, with which Sir William had inspired me, 
of settling in business, a secret at Philadelphia, 
and I still continued to do so. Had my reliance 
on the Governor been known, some friend, better 
acquainted with his character than myself, would 
doubtless have advised me not to trust him; for I 
afterwards learned that he was universally 
known to be liberal of promises, when he had no 
intention to perform. But having never solicited 
him, how could I suppose his oilers to be deceit- 
ful? On the contrary, I believed him to be the 
best man in the world. 

I gave him an inventory of a small printing- 
office; the expense of which I had calculated at 
about a hundred pounds sterling. He expressed 
his approbation; but asked, if my presence in 
England, that I might choose the characters my- 
self, and see that every article was good in its 
kind, would not be an advantage! "You will 
also be able," said he, " to form some acquaint- 
ance there, and establish a correspondence with 
stationers and booksellers." This I acknowl- 
edged was desirable. "That being the case," 
added he, "hold yourself in readiness to go with 
the Annis." This was the annual vessel, and 
the only one, at that time, which made regular 
voyages between the ports of London and Phila- 
delphia. But the Annis was not to sail for some 
months. I therefore continued to work with 
Keimer, unhappy respecting the sum which Col- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 53 

lins had drawn from me, and almost in continu- 
al agony at the thoughts of Vernon, who fortu- 
nately made no demand of his money till several 
years after. 

In the account of my first voyage from Boston 
to Philadelphia, I omitted, I believe, a trifling 
circumstance, which will not, perhaps, be out 
of place here. During a calm, which stopped us 
above Block Island, the crew employed them- 
selves in fishing for cod, of which they caught a 
great number. I had hitherto adhered to my re- 
solution of not eating any thing that had possess- 
ed life; and 1 considered, on this occasion, agree- 
ably to Vne maxims of my master Tyron, the 
capture of every fish as a sort of murder, com- 
mitted without provocation, since these animals 
had neither done, nor were capable of doing, the 
smallest injury to any one that should justify the 
measure. This mode of reasoning I conceived 
to be unanswerable. Meanwhile, I had former- 
ly been extremely fond of fish; and, when one of 
these cod was taken out of the fryingpan, thought 
its flavor delicious. I hesitated some time between 
principle and inclination, till at last recollecting, 
that when the cod had been opened some small fish 
were found in its belly, I said to myself, if you eat 
one another, I see no reason why we may not eat 
you. I accordingly dined on the cod with no small 
degree of pleasure, and have since continued to 
eat like the rest of mankind, returning only occa- 
sionally to my vegetable plan. How convenient 
does it prove to be a rational animal, that knows 
how to find or invent a plausible pretext for what- 
ever it has an inclination to do. 

I continued to live upon good terms with 

Keimer, who had not the smallest suspicion of 

my projected establishment. He still retained a 

portion of his former enthusiasm; and, being 

5* 



54 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

fond of argument, we frequently disputed togeth- 
er. I was so much in the habit of using my 
Socratic method, and had so frequently puzzled 
him by my questions, which appeared at first 
very distant from the point in debate, yet, never- 
theless, led to it by degrees, involving him in 
difficulties and contradictions from which he was 
unable to extricate himself, that he became at 
last ridiculously cautious, and would scarcely an- 
swer the most plain and familiar question without 
previously asking me— -What would you infer 
from that? Hence he formed so high an opinion 
of my talents^ for refutation, that he seriously 
proposed to me to become his colleague in the es- 
tablishment of a new religious sect. He was to 
propagate the doctrine by preaching, and I to 
refute every opponent. 

When he explained to me his tenets, I found 
many absurdities which I refused to admit, un- 
less he would agree in turn to adopt some of my 
opinions. Keimer wore his beard long, because 
Moses had somewhere said, " Thou shalt not mar 
the corners of thy beard." He likewise observ- 
ed the Sabbath; and these were with him two 
very essential points. I disliked them both: 
but I consented to adopt them, provided he 
would agree to abstain from animal food. tf I 
doubt," said he, "whether my constitution will 
be able to support it." I assured him on the 
contrary, that he would find himself the better 
for it. He was naturally a glutton, and I wished 
to amuse myself by starving him. He consented 
to make trial of this regimen, if I would bear 
him company; and, in reality, we continued it 
for three months. A woman in the neighbor- 
hood prepared and brought us our victuals, to 
whom I gave a list of forty dishes; in the compo- 
sition of which there entered neither flesh nor 



. - LIFE OF FRANKLIN. - 55 

fish. This fancy was the more agreeable to me, 
as it turned to good account; for the whole ex- 
pense of our living did not exceed for each 
eighteen^pence a week. 

I have since that period observed several Lents 
with the greatest strictness, and have suddenly- 
returned again to my ordinary diet, without ex- 
periencing the smallest inconvenience; which 
has led me to regard as of no importance the ad- 
vice commonly given, of introducing gradually 
such alterations of regimen. 

I continued it cheerfully; but poor Keimer 
suffered terribly. Tired of the project, he sighed 
for the flesh pots of Egypt. At length he ordered 
a roast pig, and invited me and two of our female 
acquaintance "to dine with him; but the pig be- 
ing ready a little too soon, he could not resist 
the temptation, and ate it all up before we 
arrived. 

During the circumstances I have related, I 
had paid some attentions to Miss Read. I enter- 
tained for her the utmost esteem and affection; 
and I had reason to believe that these sentiments 
were mutual. But v/e were both young, scarcely 
more than eighteen years of age; and, as I was 
on the point of undertaking a long voyage, her 
mother thought it prudent to prevent matters 
being carried too far for the present, judging 
that, if marriage was our object, there would be 
more propriety in it after my return, when, as 
at least I expected, I should be established in 
my business. Perhaps also she thought that my 
expectations were not so well founded as I 
imagined. 

My most intimate acquaintance at this time 
were Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, and 
James Ralph; young men who were all fond of 
reading. The two first were clerks to Mr. 



56 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

Charles Brockdon, one of the principal attor- 
neys in the town, and the other clerk to a mer* 
chant. Watson was an upright, pious, and sensi- 
ble young' man; the others were somewhat more 
loose in their principles of religion, particularly 
Ralph, whose faith, as well as that of Collins, I 
had contributed to shake; each of whom made 
me suffer a very adequate punishment. Osborne 
was sensible, and sincere and affectionate in his 
friendships, but too much inclined to the critic 
in matters of literature. Ralph was ingenuous 
and shrewd, genteel in his address, and ex- 
tremely eloquent. I do not remember to have 
met with a more agreeable speaker. They were 
both enamoured of the Muses, and had already 
evinced their passion by some small poetical 
productions. 

It was a custom with us to take a charming 
walk on Sundays, in the woods that border the 
Schuylkill. Here we read together, and after- 
wards conversed on what we read. Ralph was 
disposed to give himself up entirely to poetry. 
He flattered himself that he should "arrive at 
great eminence in the art, and even acquire a 
fortune. The sublimest poets, he pretended, 
when they first began to write, committed as 
many faults as himself. Osborne endeavored 
to dissuade him, by assuring him that he had no 
genius for poetry, and advised him to stick to the 
trade in which he had been brought up. "In 
the road of commerce," said he, "you will be 
sure, by diligence and assiduity, though you have 
no capital, of so far succeeding as to be employed 
as a factor; and may thus, in time, acquire the 
means of setting up for yourself." I concurred in 
these sentiments, but at the same time expressed 
my approbation of amusing ourselves sometimes 
with poetry, with a view to improve our style 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 57 

In consequence of this it was proposed, that, at 
our next meeting, each of us should bring a 
copy of verses of his own composition. Our ob- 
ject in this competition was to benefit each 
other by our mutual remarks, criticisms, and 
corrections ; and as style and expression were 
all we had in view, we' excluded every^ idea of 
invention, by agreeing that our task should be 
a version of the eighteenth Psalm, in which is 
described the descent of the Deity. 

The time of our meeting drew near, when 
Ralph called upon me, and told me that his per- 
formance was ready. I informed him that I had 
been idle, and, not much liking the task, had 
done nothing. He showed me his piece, and 
asked me what I thought of it. I expressed my- 
self in terms of warm approbation ; because it 
really appeared to have considerable merit. — 
He then said, " Osborne will never acknowledge 
the smallest degree of excellence in any produc- 
tion of mine. Envy alone dictates to him a 
thousand animadversions. Of you he is not so 
jealous: I wish, therefore, you would take the 
verses, and produce them as your own. I will 
pretend not to have had leisure to write any 
thing. We shall then see in what manner he 
will speak of them. I agreed to this little arti- 
fice, and immediately transcribed the verses to 
prevent all suspicion. 

We met. Watson's performance was the first 
that was read. It had some beauties, but many 
faults. We next read Osborne's, which was 
much better. Ralph did it justice, remarking a 
few imperfections, and applauding such parts as 
were excellent. He had himself nothing to show. 
It was now my turn. I made some difficulty ; 
seemed as if I wished to be excused ; pretended 
that I had no time to make corrections, &c. 
c2 



58 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

No excuse, however, was admissible, and the 
piece must be produced. It was read and re- 
read. Watson and Osborne immediately re- 
signed the, palm, and united in applauding it. 
Ralph alone made a few remarks, and proposed 
some alterations; but I defended my text. Os- 
borne agreed with me, and told Ralph that he 
was no more able to criticise than he was able 
to write. 

When Osborne was alone with me, he express- 
ed himself still more strongly in favor of what 
he considered as my performance. He pretended 
that he had put some restraint on himself before, 
apprehensive of my construing his commenda- 
tions into flattery. "But who would have sup- 
posed," said he, " Frankliu to be capable of 
such a composition! What painting, what en- 
ergy, what tire! He has surpassed the original. 
In his common conversation he appears not to 
have a choice of words; he hesitates, and ie at a 
loss: and yet, good God, how he writes! " 

At our next meeting Ralph discovered the 
trick we had played. Osborne, who was rallied 
without mercy. 

By this adventure Ralph was fixed in his reso- 
lution of becoming a poet: I left nothing unat- 
tempted to divert him from his purpose, but he 
persevered, till at last the reading of Pope* ef- 
fected his cure: he became, however, a very 
tolerable prose writer. I shall speak more of 
him hereafter; but as I shall probably have no 
farther occasion to mention the other two, I 
ought to observe here, that Watson died a few 
years after in my arms. He was greatly regret- 

* Probably the Dunciad, where we find him thus immor- 
talized by the author: 

Silence, ye wolves, while Ralph to Cynthia howls 
And makes night hideous; answer him, ye owls! 



, LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 59 

ted; for he was the best of our society. Osborne 
went to the islands, where he gained considera- 
ble reputation as a barrister, and was getting" 
money; but he died young. We had seriously 
engaged, that whoever died first should return 
if possible and pay a friendly visit to the survivor, 
to give him an account of the other world ; but 
he has never fulfilled his engagement. 

The Governor appeared to be fond of my com- 
pany, and frequently invited me to his house. 
He always spoke of his intention of settling me 
in business as a point that was decided. I was 
to take with me letters of recommendation to a 
number of his friends; and particularly a letter 
of credit, in order to obtain the necessary sum 
for the purchase of my press, types, and paper. 
He appointed various times for me to come for 
these letters, which would certainly be ready; 
and, when I came, always put me off to another 
day. 

These successive delays continued till the ves- 
sel, whose departure had been several times de- 
ferred, was on the point of setting sail; when I 
again went to Sir William's house, to receive 
my letters and take leave of him. I saw his Sec- 
retary, Dr. Bard, who told me, that the Governor 
was extremely busy writing, but that he would 
be down at Newcastle before the vessel, and 
that the letters would be delivered to me there. 

Ralph, though he was married and had a child, 
determined to accompany me in this voyage. — 
His object was supposed to be the establishing 
a correspondence with some mercantile houses, 
in order to sell goods by commission; but I af- 
terwards learned that, having reason to be dis- 
satisfied with the parents of his wife, he proposed 
to himself to leave her on their hands, and 
never return to America again. 



GO LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

Having taken leave of my friends, and inter- 
changed promises of fidelity with Miss Read, I 
quitted Philadelphia. At Newcastle the vessel 
came to anchor. The Governor was arrived, 
and I went to his lodgings. His Secretary re- 
ceived me with great civility, told me, on the 
part of the Governor, that he could not see me 
then, as he was engaged in affairs of the utmost 
importance, but that he would send the letters 
on board, and that he wished me, with all his 
heart, a good voyage and speedy return. I re- 
turned, somewhat astonished, to the ship, but 
still without entertaining the slighest suspicion. 

Mr. Hamilton, a celebrated barrister of Phila- 
delphia, had taken a passage to England for him- 
self and his son, and, in conjunction with Mr. 
Denham, a Quaker, and Messrs. Oniam and Rus- 
sel, proprietors of a forge in Maryland, had 
agreed for the whole cabin, so that Ralph and I 
were obliged to take up our lodging with the 
crew. Being unknown to every body in the 
ship, we were looked upon as of the common 
order of people : but Mr. Hamilton and his son 
(it was James, who was afterwards Governoi) left 
us at Newcastle, # and returned to Philadelphia, 
where he was recalled at a very great expense, 
to plead the canise of a vessel that had been 
seized; and just as we were about to sail, Colo- 
nel French came on board, and showed me 
many civilities. The passengers upon this paid 
me more attention, and I was invited, together 
with my friend Ralph, to occupy the place in the 
cabin which the return of the Mr. Hatniltons had 
made vacant; an offer which we very readily 
accepted. 

Having learned that the despatches of the 
Governor had been brought on board by Colonel 
French, I asked the captain for the letters that 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 61 

were to be entrusted to my care. He told me 
that they were all put together in the bag, which 
he could not open at present ; but before we 
reached England, he would give me an opportu- 
nity of taking them out. I was satisfied with 
this answer, and we pursued our voyage. 

The company in the cabin were all very so- 
ciable, and we were perfectly well off as to pro- 
visions, as we had the advantage of the whole of 
Mr. Hamilton's, who had laid in a very plentiful 
stock. During the passage, Mr. Denham con- 
tracted a friendship for me, which ended only 
with his life : in other respects the voyage was 
by no means an agreeable one, as we had much 
bad weather. 

When we arrived in the river, the Captain was 
as good as his word, and allowed me to search 
in the bag for the Governor's letters. I could 
not find a single one with my name written on 
it, as committed to my care ; but I selected six 
or seven, which I judged from the direction to 
be those that were intended for me ; particularly 
one to Mr. Basket, the King's printer, and an- 
other to a stationer, who was the first person I 
called upon. I delivered him the letter as com- 
ing from Governor Keith. " I have no acquain- 
tance," said he, "with any such person;" and, 
opening the letter, " Oh, it is from Riddles- 
den!" he exclaimed. "I have lately discovered 
him to be a very arrant knave, and wish to have 
nothing to do either with him or his letters." 
He instantly put the letter into my hand, turned 
upon his heel and left me, to serve some cus- 
tomers. 

I was astonished at finding those letters were 

not from the Governor. Reflecting,* and putting 

circumstances together, I then began to doubt 

his sincerity. I rejoined my friend Denham, and 

6 



62 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

related the whole affair to him. He let me at 
once into Keith's character, told me there was 
rio-t the least probability of his having written a 
single letter; that no one who knew him ever 
placed any reliance on him, and laughed at my 
credulity in supposing, that the Governor would 
give me a letter of credit, when he had no credit 
for himself. As I showed some uneasiness re- 
specting what step I should take, he advised me 
to try to get employment in the house of some 
printer. "You may there," said he, "improve 
yourself in business, and you will be able to set- 
tle yourself the more advantageously when you 
return to America." 

We knew already as well as the stationer, at- 
torney Riddlesden to be a knave. lie had near- 
ly ruined the father of Miss Read, by drawing 
him in to be his security. We learned from his 
letter, that he was secretly carrying on an in- 
trigue, in concert with the Governor, to the 
prejudice of Mr. Hamilton, who, it was supposed, 
would by this time be in Europe. Denharn, who 
was Hamilton's friend, was of opinion that he 
ought to be made acquainted with it; and, in 
reality, the instant he arrived in England, which 
was very soon after, I waited on him, and, as 
much from good-will to him, as from resentment 
against the Governor, put the letter into his 
hands. He thanked me very sincerely, the in- 
formation it contained being of consequence to 
him; and from that moment bestowed on me his 
friendship, which afterwards proved, on many 
occasions, serviceable to me. 

But what are we to think of a Governor who 
could play so scurvy a trick, and thus grossly 
deceive a poor young lad, wholly destitute of 
experience'? It was a practice with him. Wish- 
ing to please every body, and having little to 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 63 

bestow, he was lavish of promises. He was, in 
other respects, sensible and judicious, a very 
tolerable writer, and a good Governor for the 
people ; though not so for the Proprietaires, 
whose instructions he frequently disregarded. 
Many of our best laws were his work, and es- 
tablished during his administration. 

Ralph and I were inseparable companions. 
We took a lodging together at three and six- 
pence a week, which was as much as we could 
afford. He met with some relations in London, 
but they were poor, and not able to assist him. 
He now, for the first time, informed me of his 
intention to remain in England, and that he had 
no thoughts of ever returning to Philadelphia. 
He was totally without money ; the little he had 
been able to raise having barely sufficed for his 
passage. I had still fifteen pistoles remaining; 
and to me he had from time to time recourse, 
while he tried to get employment. 

At first believing himself possessed of talents 
for the stage, he thought of turning actor; but 
Wilkes, to whom he applied, frankly advised him 
to renounce the idea, as it was impossible he 
•should succeed. He next proposed to Roberts, 
a bookseller in Paternoster Row, to write a 
weekly paper in the manner of the Spectator, 
upon terms to which Roberts would not listen. 
Lastly, he endeavored to procure employment as 
a copyist, and applied to the lawyers and sta- 
tioners about the Temple, but could find no 
vacancy. 

As to myself, I immediately got engaged at 
Palmer's, at that time a noted printer in Bar- 
tholomewclose, with whom I continued nearly a 
year. 1 applied very assiduously to my work; 
but I expended with Ralph almost all that I 
earned. Plays and other places of amusement 



€4 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

which we frequented together having exhausted 
my pistoles, we lived after this from hand to 
mouth. He appeared to have entirely forgotten 
his wife and child, as I also, by degrees, forgot 
my engagements with Miss Read, to whom I 
never wrote more than one letter, and that mere- 
ly to inform her that I was not likely to return 
soon. This was another grand error of my life, 
which I should be desirous of correcting were I 
to begin my career again. 

I was employed at Palmer's on the second edi- 
tion of Woolaston's Religion of Nature. Some 
of his arguments appearing to me not to be well 
founded, I wrote a small metaphysical treatise, 
in which I animadverted on those passages. It 
was entitled a " Dissertation on Liberty and 
Necessity, Pleasure and Pain." I dedicated it 
to my friend Ralph, and printed a small number 
of copies. Palmer upon this treated me with 
more consideration, and regarded me as a young 
man of talents; though he seriously took me to 
task for the principles of my pamphlet, which he 
looked upon as abominable. The printing of 
this work was another error of my life. 

While I lodged in Little Britain I formed an 
acquaintance with a bookseller of the name of 
Wilcox, whose shop was next door to me. Cir- 
culating libraries were not then in use. He had 
an immense collection of books of all sorts. We 
agreed that, for a reasonable retribution, of 
which I have now forgotten the price, I should 
have free access to his library, and take what 
books I pleased, which I was to return when I 
had read them. I considered this agreement as 
a very great advantage ; and I derived from it 
as much benefit as was in my power. 

My pamphlet falling into the hands of a sur- 
geon, of the name of Lyons, author of a book 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 65 

entitled, "Infallibility of Human Judgment," 
was the occasion of a considerable intimacy be- 
tween us. He expressed great esteem for me, 
came frequently to see me, in order to converse 
upon metaphysical subjects, and introduced me 
to Dr. Mandeville, author of the Fable of the 
Bees, who had instituted a club at a tavern in 
Cheapside, of which he was the soul: he was a 
facetious and very amusing- character. He also 
introduced me, at Batson's coffee-house, to Dr, 
Pemberton, who promised to give me ^n oppor- 
tunity of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, which I very 
ardently desired; but he never kept his word. 

I had brought some curiosities with me from 
America; the principal of which was a purse 
made of the asbestos, which fire only purifies. 
Sir Hans Sloane, hearing of it, called upon me, 
and invited me to his house in Bloomsbury 
Square, where, after showing me every thing 
that was curious, he prevailed on me to add this 
piece to his collection; for which he paid me 
very handsomely. 

There lodged in the same house with us a 
young woman, a milliner, who had a shop by the 
side of the Exchange. Lively and sensible, and 
having received an education somewhat above 
her rank, her conversation was very agreeable. 
Ralph read plays to her every evening. They 
became intimate. She took another lodging, and 
he followed her. They lived for some time to- 
gether; but Ralph being without employment, she 
having a child, and the profits of her business not 
sufficing for the maintenance of three, he resolv- 
ed to quit London, and try a country school 
This was a plan in which he thought himself 
likely to succeed; as he wrote a fine hand, and 
was versed in arithmetic and accounts. But con 
siderin<r the office as beneath him, and expecting- 
6* 



66 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

some day to make a better figure in the world, 
when he should be ashamed of its being known 
that he had exercised a profession so little hon- 
orable, he changed his name, and did me the 
honor of assuming mine. He wrote to me soon 
after his departure, informing me that he was 
settled at a small village in Berkshire. In hi3 
letter he recommended Mrs. T. the milliner, to 
my care, and requested an answer, directed to 
Mr. Franklin, school-master at N***. 

He continued to write to me frequently, send- 
ing me large fragments of an epic poem he was 
composing, and which he requested me to criti- 
cise and correct. I did so, but not without en- 
deavoring to prevail on him to renounce this 
pursuit. Young had just published one of his 
Satires. I copied and sent him a great part of 
it; in which the author demonstrates the folly of 
cultivating the Muses, from the hope, by their 
instrumentality, of rising in the world. It was 
all to no purpose; paper after paper of his poem 
continued to arrive every post. 

Meanwhile Mrs. T*** having lost, on his ac- 
count, both her friends and business, was fre- 
quently in distress. In this dilemma she had re- 
course to me, and, to extricate her from her dif- 
ficulties, I lent her all the money I could spare. 
I felt a little too much fondness for her. Having 
at that time no ties of religion, and, taking ad- 
vantage of her necessitous situation, I attempt- 
ed liberties (another error of my life,) which she 
repelled with becoming indignation. She inform- 
ed Ralph of my conduct; and the affair occasion- 
ed a breach between us. When he returned to 
London, he gave me to understand that he con- 
sidered all the obligations he owed me as anni- 
hilated by this proceeding; whence I concluded 
that I was never to expect the payment of what 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. €7 

money I had lent him, or advanced on his ac- 
count. I was the less afflicted at this, as he was 
wholly unable to pay me; and as, by losing his 
friendship, I was relieved at the same time from 
a very heavy burden. 

I now began to think of laying by some money. 
The printing-house of Watts, near Lincoln's- 
inn-fields, being a still more considerable one 
than that in which I worked, it was probable I 
might find it more advantageous to be employed 
there. I offered myself, and was accepted; and 
in this house I continued during the remainder 
of my stay in London. 

On my entrance I worked at first as a press- 
man, conceiving that I had need of bodily exer- 
cise, to which I had been accustomed in Amer- 
ica, where the printers work alternately as com- 
positors and at the press. I drank nothing but 
water. The- other workmen, to the number of 
about fifty, were great drinkers of beer. I car- 
ried occasionally a large form of letters in each 
hand, up and down stairs, while the rest em- 
ployed both hands to carry one. They were sur- 
prised to see, by this and many other examples, 
that the American Aquatic, as they used to call 
me, was stronger than those who drank, porter. 
The beer boy had sufficient employment during 
the whole day in serving that house alone. My 
fellow pressman drank every day a pint of beer 
before breakfast, a pint with bread and cheese 
for breakfast, one between breakfast and dinner, 
one at dinner, one again about six o'clock in the 
afternoon, and another after he had finished his 
day's work. This custom appeared to me abom- 
inable; but he had need, he said, of all this beer, 
in order to acquire strength to work. 

I endeavored to convince him that the bodily 
strength furnished by the beer, could only be in 



69 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

proportion to the solid part of the barley dissolv- 
ed in the water of which the beer was composed; 
that there was a larger portion of flour in a pen- 
ny loaf, and that consequently, if he ate this loaf 
and drank a pint of water with it, he would de- 
rive more strength from it than from a pint of 
beer. This reasoning, however, did not prevent 
him from drinking his accustomed quantity of 
beer, and paying every Saturday night a score of 
four or five shillings a week for this cursed bev- 
erage; an expense from which I was wholly ex- 
empt. Thus do these poor devils continue all 
their lives in a state of voluntary wretchedness 
and poverty. 

At the end of a few weeks, Watts, having oc- 
casion for me above stairs as a compositor, I 
quitted the press. The compositors demanded 
of me garnish-money afresb. This I considered 
as an imposition, having already paid below. The 
master was of the same opinion, and desired me 
not to comply. I thus remained two or three 
weeks out of the fraternity. I was consequent- 
ly looked upon as excommunicated; and when- 
ever I was absent, no little trick that malice 
could suggest was left unpractised upon me. I 
found my letters mixed, my pages transposed, my 
matter broken, &c. &c. all which was attribut- 
ed to the spirit that haunted the chapel,* and 
tormented those that were not regularly admit- 
ted. I was at last obliged to submit to pay, not- 
withstanding the protection of the master; con- 
vinced of the folly of not keeping up a good un- 
derstanding with those among whom Ave are des- 
tined to live. 

After this I lived in the utmost harmony with 

* Printing-houses in general are thus denominated by 
tha workmen : the spirit they call by the name of Ralph. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. (59 

my fellow laborers, and soon acquired consider- 
able influence among them. I proposed some al- 
teration in the laws of the chapel, which I car- 
ried without opposition. My example prevailed 
with several of them to renounce their abomina- 
ble practice of bread and cheese with beer; and 
they procured, like me, from a neighboring 
house, a good basin of warm gruel, in which was 
a small slice of butter, with toasted bread and 
nutmeg. This was a much better breakfast, 
which did not cost more than a pint of beer, 
namely, three-halfpence, and at the same time 
preserved the head clearer. Those who contin- 
ued to gorge themselves with beer, often lost 
their credit with the publican, from neglecting 
to pay their score. They had then recourse to 
me, to become security for them; their lights as 
they used, to call it, being out. I attended at 
the pay-table every Saturday evening, to take 
up the little sum which I had made myself an- 
swerable for, and which sometimes amounted to 
nearly thirty shillings a week. 

This circumstance added to my reputation of 
being a tolerable good gabber, or, in other 
words, skilful in the art of burlesque, kept up 
my importance in the chapel. I had besides re- 
commended myself to the esteem of my master 
by my assiduous application to business, never 
observing Saint Monday. My extraordinary 
quickness in composing always procured me such 
work as was most urgent, and which is common- 
ly best paid; and thus my time passed away in a 
very pleasant manner. 

My lodging in Little Britain being too far from 
the printing-house, I took another in Duke 
Street, opposite the Roman Catholic chapel. It 
was at the back of an Italian warehouse. The 
house was kept by a widow, who had a daughter, 



70 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

a servant, and a shop-boy; but the latter slept, 
out of the house. After sending to the people 
with whom I lodged in Little Britain, to inquire 
into my character, she agreed to take me in at 
the same price, tiiree and sixpence a week; con- 
tenting herself, she said, with so little, because 
of the security she should derive, as they were 
all women, from having a man lodger in the 
house. 

She was a woman rather advanced in life, the 
daughter of a clergyman. She had been educat- 
ed a Protestant; but her husband, whose memory 
she highly revered, had converted her to the 
Catholic religion. She had lived in habits of in- 
timacy with persons of distinction; of whom she 
knew various anecdotes as far back as the time 
of Charles II. Being subject to fits of the gout, 
which often confined her to her room, she was 
sometimes disposed to see company. Hers was 
so amusing to me, that I was glad to pass the 
evening with her as often as she desired it. Our 
supper consisted only of half an anchovy a-piece, 
upon a slice of bread and butter, with half a pint 
of ale between us. But the entertainment was 
in her conversation. 

Tire early hours I kept, and the little trouble 
I occasioned in the family, made her loath to 
part with me; and when I mentioned another 
lodging I had found, nearer the printing-house, 
at two shillings a week, which fell in with my 
plan of saving, she persuaded me to give it up, 
making herself an abatement of two shillings: 
and thus I continued to lodge with her, during 
the remainder of my abode in London, at 
eighteen-pence a week. 

In a garret of the house there lived, in a most 
retired manner, a lady seventy years of age, of 
whom I received the following account from my 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 71 

landlady. She was a Roman Catholic. In her 
early years she had been sent to the continent, 
and entered a convent with the design of be- 
coming a nun; but the climate not agreeing with 
her constitution, she was obliged to return to 
England, where, as there were no monasteries, 
she made a vow to lead a monastic life,, in as 
rigid a manner as circumstances would permit. 
She accordingly disposed of all her property to 
be applied to charitable uses, reserving to her- 
self only twelve pounds a year: and of this small 
pittance she gave a part to the poor, living on 
water gruel, and never making use of fire but to 
boil it. She had lived in this garret a great 
many years, without paying rent to the succes- 
sive Catholic inhabitants that had kept the 
house; who indeed considered her abode with 
them as a blessing. A priest came every day to 
confess her. " I have asked her, " said my land- 
lady, "how, living as she did, she could find so 
much employment for a confessor] To which she 
answered, that it was impossible to avoid vain 
thoughts." 

I was once permitted to visit her. She was 
cheerful and polite, and her conversation agree- 
able. Her apartment was neat; but the whole 
furniture consisted of a mattrass, a table, on 
whicli was a crucifix and a book, a chair, which 
she gave me to sit on, and over the mantel-piece 
a picture of St. Veronica displaying her hand- 
kerchief, on which was seen the miraculous im- 
pression of the face of Christ, which she explain- 
ed to me with great gravity. Her countenance 
was pale, but she had never experienced sick- 
ness; and I may adduce her as another proof 
how little is sufficient to maintain life and 
health. 

At the printing-house I contracted an intima- 



72 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

cy with a sensible young man of the name of 
Wygate, who, as his parents were in good cir- 
cumstances, had received a better education than 
is common among printers. He was a tolerable 
Latin scholar, spoke French fluently, and was 
fond of reading. I taught him, as well as a friend 
of his, to swim, by taking them twice only into 
the river; after which they stood in need of no 
farther assistance. We one day made a party 
to go by water to Chelsea, in order to see the 
College, and Don Soltero's curiosities. On our 
return, at the request of the company, whose 
curiosity Wygate had excited, I undressed my- 
self, and leaped into the river. I swam from 
near Chelsea the whole way to Black-friars 
Bridge, exhibiting, during my course, a variety 
of feats of activity and address, both upon the 
surface of the water, as well as under it. This 
sight occasioned much astonishment and pleasure 
to those to whom it was new. In my youth I 
took great delight in this exercise. I knew, and 
could execute, all the evolutions and positions of 
Thevenot; and I added to them some of my own 
invention, in which I endeavored to unite 
gracefulness and utility. I took a pleasure in dis- 
playing them all on this occasion, and was high- 
ly flattered with the admiration they excited. 

Wygate, besides his being desirous of perfect- 
ing himself in this art, was the more attached to 
me from there being, in other respects, a con- 
formity in our tastes and studies. He at length 
proposed to me to make the tour of Europe with 
him, maintaining ourselves at the same time by 
working at our profession. I was on the point 
of consenting, when I mentioned it to my friend, 
Mr. Denham, with whom I was glad to pass an 
hour whenever I had leisure. He dissuaded me 
from the project, and advised me to think of re- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 73 

turning to Philadelphia, which he was about to 
do himself. I must relate in this place a trait of 
this worthy man's character. 

He had formerly been in business at Bristol,' 
but failing;, he compounded with his creditors, 
and departed for America, where, by assiduous 
application as a merchant, he acquired in a few 
years a very considerable fortune. Returning; to 
England in the same vessel with myself, as I have 
related above, he invited all his old creditors to 
a feast. When assembled, he thanked them 
for the readiness with which they had received 
his small composition; and, while they expected 
nothing; more than a simple entertainment, each 
found under his plate, when it came to be remov- 
ed, a draft upon a banker for the residue of his 
debt, with interest. 

He told me that it was his intention to carry 
back with him to Philadelphia a great quantity 
of goods, in order to open a store; and he offer- 
ed to take me with him in the capacity of clerk, 
to keep his books, in which he would instruct 
me, copy letters, and superintend the store. He 
added, that as soon as I had acquired a knowl- 
edge of mercantile transactions, he would im- 
prove my situation, by sending me with a cargo 
of corn and flour to the American islands, and 
by procuring me other lucrative commissions; so 
that, with good management and economy, I 
might in time begin business with advantage for 
myself. 

I relished these proposals. London began to 
tire me; the agreeable hours I had passed at 
Philadelphia presented themselves to my mind, 
and I wished to see them revive. I consequently 
engaged myself to Mr. Denham, at a salary of 
fifty pounds a year. This was indeed less than 
I earned as a compositor, but then I had -a much 
7 D 



74 Life of franklin. 

fairer prospect. I took leave, therefore, as I 
believed for ever, of printing, and .gave myself 
up to my new occupation, spending all my time 
either in going from house to house with Mr. 
Denham to purchase goods, or in packing them 
up or in expediting the workmen, &cc. &c. When 
every thing, however, was on board, I had at 
last a few days leisure. 

During this interval, I was one day sent for by 
a gentleman, whom I knew only by name. It 
was Sir William Wyndham. I went to his house. 
He had by some means heard of my performan- 
ces between Chelsea and Blackfriars, and that I 
Lad taught the art of swimming to Wygate and 
another young man in the course of a few hours. 
His two sons were on the point of setting out on 
their travels; he was desirous that they should 
previously learn to swim, and offered me a very 
liberal reward if I would undertake to instruct 
them. They were not yet arrived in town, and 
the stay I should make was uncertain; I could 
not therefore accept his proposal. I was led, 
however, to suppose from this incident, that if I 
had wished to remain in London, and open a 
swimming school, I should perhaps have gained 
a great deal of money. The idea struck me so 
forcibly that, had the offer been made sooner, I 
should have dismissed the thought of returning 
as yet to America. Some years after, you and I 
had a more important business to settle with one 
of the sons of Sir William Wyndham, then Lord 
Egremont. But let us not anticipate events. 

I thus passed about eighteen months in Lon- 
don, working almost without intermission at my 
trade, avoiding all expense on my own account, 
except going now and then to the play, and pur- 
chasing a few books. But my friend Ralph kept 
me poor. He owed me about twenty-seven 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 75 

pounds, which was so much money lost; and 
when considered as taken from my little savings, 
was a very great sum. I had, notwithstanding 
this, a regard for him, as he possessed many 
amiable qualities. But though I had done noth- 
ing for myself in point of fortune, I had increas- 
ed my stock of knowledge, either by the many 
excellent books I had read, or the conversation 
of learned and literary persons with whom I was 
acquainted. 

We sailed from Gravesend on the 23d of July, 
1726. For the incidents of. my voyage I refer 
you to my Journal, where you will find all its 
circumstances minutely related. We landed at 
Philadelphia on the 11th of the following Octo- 
ber. 

Keith had been deprived of his office of Gov- 
ernor, and was succeeded by Major Gordon. I 
met him walking in the street as a private indi- 
vidual. He appeared a little ashamed at seeing 
me, but passed on without saying any thing. 

I should have been equally ashamed myself at 
meeting Miss Read, had not her family, justly 
despairing of my return after reading my letter, 
advised her to give me up, and marry a potter, 
of the name of Rogers; to which she consented: 
but he never made her happy, and she soon se- 
parated from him, refusing to cohabit with him, 
or even bear his name, on account of a report 
which prevailed, of his having another wife. His 
skill in his profession had seduced Miss Read's 
parents; but he was as bad a subject as he was 
excellent as a workman. He involved himself in 
debt, and fled, in the year 1727 or 1728, to the 
West Indies, where he died. 

During my absence Keimer had taken a more 
considerable house, in which he kept a shop, 
that was well supplied with paper, and various 



76 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

other articles. He had procured some new types, 
and a number of workmen; among whom, how- 
ever, there was not one who was good for any 
thing'; and he appeared not to want business. 

Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water 
Street, where we exhibited our commodities. I 
applied myself closely, studied accounts, and be- 
came in a short time very expert in trade. We 
lodged and eat together, lie was sincerely at- 
tached to me, and acted towards me as if he had 
been my father. On my side, I respected and 
loved him. My situation was happy; but it was 
a happiness of no long duration. 

Early in February, 1727, when I entered into 
my twenty-second year, we were both taken ill. 
I, was attacked with a pleurisy, which had nearly 
carried me off: I suffered terribly, and consider- 
ed it as all over with me. I felt indeed a sort of 
disappointment when I found myself likely to re- 
cover, and regretted that I had still to experi- 
ence sooner or later, the same disagreeable 
scene again. 

I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham's dis- 
order; but it was a tedious one, and he at last 
sunk under it. He left me a small legacy in his 
will, as a testimony of his friendship; and I was 
once more abandoned to myself in the wide 
world, the warehouse being confided to the care 
of the testamentary executor, who dismissed 
me. 

My brother-in-law. Holmes, who happened to 
be at Philadelphia, advised me to return to my 
former profession; and Keifner offered me a very 
considerable salary if 1 wuuld undertake the 
management of his printing-office, that he might 
devote himself entirely to the superintendence 
of his shop. His wife and relations in London 
had given me a bad character cf him; and I was 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 77 

loath, for the present, to have any concern with 
him. I endeavored to get employment as a 
clerk to a merchant; but not readily finding a 
situation, I was induced to accept Keimer's pro- 
posal. 

The following were the persons I found in his 
printing-house. 

Hugh Meredith, a Pennsylvanian, about thir- 
ty-five years of age. He had been brought up 
to husbandry, was honest, and sensible, had some 
experience, and was fond of reading; but too 
much addicted to drinking. 

Stephen Potts, a young rustic, just broke from 
school, and of rustic education, with endow- 
ments rather above the common order, and a 
competent portion of understanding and gaiety; 
but a little idle. Keimer had engaged these two 
at very low wages, which he had promised 
to raise every three months a shilling a week, 
provided their improvement in the typographic 
art should merit it. This future increase of 
wages was the bait he had made use of to ensnare 
them. Meredith was to work at the press, and 
Potts to bind books, which he had engaged to 
teach them, though he understood neither him- 
self. 

John Savage, an Irishman, who had been 
brought up to no trade, and whose service, for a 
period of four years, Keimer had purchased of 
the Captain of a ship. He was also to be a press- 
man. 

George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time 
he had in like manner bought for four years, in- 
tending him for a compositor. I shall speak 
more of him presently. 

Lastly, David Harry, a country lad, who was 
apprenticed to him. 

I soon perceived that Keimer's intention, in 



78 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

engaging me at a price so much above what he 
was accustomed to give, was, that I might form 
all these raw journeymen and apprentices, who 
scarcely cost him any thing, and who, being in- 
dentured, would, as soon as they should be suffi- 
ciently instructed, enable him to do without me. 
I nevertheless adhered to my agreement. I put 
the office in order, which was in the utmost con- 
fusion, and brought his people, by degrees, to 
pay attention to their work, and to execute it 
in a more masterly style. / 

It was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the 
condition of a purchased servant, lie was not 
more than eighteen years of age ; and the fol- 
lowing are the particulars he gave me of him- 
self. Born at Gloucester, he had been educated 
at a grammar-school, and had distinguished him- 
self among the scholars by his superior style of 
acting, when they represented dramatic perform- 
ances. He was a member of a literary club in 
the town ; and some pieces of his composition, 
in prose as well as in verse, had been inserted 
in the Gloucester papers. From hence he was 
sent to Oxford, where he remained about a year ; 
but he was not contented, and wished above all 
things to see London, and become an actor. At 
length, having received fifteen guineas to pay his 
quarter's board, he decamped with the money 
from Oxford, hid his gown in a hedge, and trav- 
elled to London. There, having no friend to 
direct him, he fell into bad company, soon squan- 
dered his fifteen guineas, could find no way of 
being introduced to the actors, became con- 
temptible, pawned his clothes, and was in want 
of bread. As he was walking along the streets, 
almost famished with hunger, and not knowing 
what to do, a recruiting bill was put into his 
hand, which offered an immediate treat and 
7 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 79 

bounty-money to whoever was disposed to serve 
in America. He instantly repaired to the house 
of rendezvous, enlisted himself, was put on board 
a ship, and conveyed to America, without ever 
writing; a line to inform his parents what was 
become of him. His mental vivacity, and good 
natural disposition, made him an excellent com- 
panion; but he was indolent, thoughtless, _and 
to the last degree impfudent. 

John, the Irishman, soon ran away. I began 
to live very agreeably with the rest. They re- 
spected me, and the more so as they found Kei- 
mer incapable of instructing them, and as they 
learned something from me everyday. We nev- 
er worked on a Saturday, it being Keimer's sab- 
bath ; so that I had two days a week for reading. 

I increased my acquaintance with persons of 
knowledge and information in the town. Kei- 
mer himself treated me with great civility and 
apparent esteem ; and I had nothing to give me 
uueasiness but my debt, to Vernon, which I was 
unable to pay, my savings as yet being very little. 
He had the goodness, however, not to ask me for 
the money. 

Our press was frequently in want of the neces- 
sary quantity of letter; and there was no &uch 
trade as that of letter-founder in America. I had 
seen the practice of this art at the House of 
James, in London; but had at the time paid it 
very little attention. I however contrived to 
fabricate a mould. I made use of such letters as 
we had for punches, founded new letters of lead 
in matrices of clay, and thus supplied, in a tol- 
erable manner, the wants that were most pressing. 

I also, upon occasion, engraved various orna- 
ments, made ink, gave an eye to the shop; in 
short, I was in every respect the factotum. But 
useful as I made myself, I perceived that my ser- 



80 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

vices became every day of less importance, in 
proportion as the other men improved: and when 
Keimer paid me my second quarter's wages, he 
gave me to understand they were too heavy, and 
that he thought I ought to make an abatement. 
He became by degrees less civil, and assumed 
more the tone of the master. He frequently found 
fault, was difficult to please, and seemed always 
on the point of coming to an open quarrel with 
me. 

1 continued, however, to bear it patiently, 
conceiving that his illhumor was partly occa- 
sioned by the derangement and embarrassment 
of his alfairs. At last a slight incident broke our 
connexion. Hearing a noise in the neighbor- 
hood, I put my head out at the window to see 
what was the matter. Keimer being in the 
street, observed me,and, in a loud and angry 
tone, told me to mind my work; adding some 
reproachful words, which piqued me the more, 
as they were uttered in the street, a,nd the neigh- 
bors, whom the same noise had attracted to the 
windows, were witnesses of the manner in which 
I was treated. He immediately came up to the 
printing-room, and continued to exclaim against 
me. The quarrel became warm on both sides, 
and he gave me notice to quit him at the expira- 
tion of three months, as had been agreed upon 
between us; regretting that he was obliged to 
give me so long a term. I told him that his regret 
was superfluous, as I was ready to quit him in- 
stantly, and I took my hat and came out of the 
house, begging Meredith to take care of some 
things which I left, and bring them to my lodg- 
ings. ~- 

Meredith came to me in the evening. We talk- 
ed for some time upon the quarrel that had taken 
place. He had conceived a great veneration for 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 81 

me, and was sorry I should quit the house while 
he remained in it. He dissuaded me from return- . 
ing to my native country, as I began to think of 
doing. He reminded me that Keimer owed me 
more than he possessed: that his creditors began 
to be alarmed*; that he kept his shop in a wretched 
state, often selling things at prime "cost for the 
sake of ready money, and continually giving 
credit .without keeping any accounts; that of 
consequence he must very soon fail, which would 
occasion a vacancy from which I might derive 
advantage. I objected my want of money. Upon 
which he informed me that his father had a very 
high opinion of me, and, from a conversation 
that had passed between them, he was sure that 
he would advance whatever might be necessary 
to establish us, if I was willing to enter into 
partnership with him. "My time with Keimer," 
added he, " will be at an end next spring. In 
the mean time we may send to London for our 
press and types, I know that I am no workman; 
but if you agree to the proposal, your skill in the 
business will be balanced by the capital I shall 
furnish, and we will share the profits equally." 
His proposal was seasonable, and I fell in with 
it. His father, who was then in the town, ap- 
proved of it. He knew that I had some ascen- 
dency over his son, as I had been able to prevail 
on him to abstain a long time from drinking 
brandy: and he hoped that, when more closely 
connected with him, I should cure him entirely 
cf this unfortunate habit. 

I gave the father a list of what it would be ne- 
cessary to import from London. He took it to a 
merchant, and the order was given. We agreed 
to keep the secret till the arrival of the materi- 
als, and I was in the mean time to procure work, 
if possible, in another printing-house ; but there 
d2 



82 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

was no place vacant, and I remained idle. After 
some days, Keimer having- the expectation of 
being- employed to print some New Jersey money 
bills, that would require types and engravings 
which I only could furnish, and fearful that Brad- 
ford, by engaging- me, might deprive him of this 
undertaking, sent me a very civil message, tell- 
ing me that old friends ought not to be disunited 
on account of a few words, which were the effect 
only of a momentary passion, and inviting me to 
return to him. Meredith persuaded me to com- 
ply with the invitation, particularly as it would 
afford him more opportunities of improving him- 
self in the business by means of my instructions. 
I did so; and we lived upon better terms than be- 
fore our separation. 

He obtained the New Jersey business; and, in 
order to execute it, I constructed a copper-plate 
printing-press, the first that had been seen in the 
country. I engraved various ornaments and vig- 
nettes for the bills; and we repaired to Burling- 
ton together, where I executed the whole to gen- 
eral satisfaction; and he received a sum of 
money for this work, which enabled him to keep 
his head above water for a considerable time 
longer. 

At Burlington I formed an acquaintance with 
the principal personages of the province, many 
of whom were commissioned by the Assembly to 
superintend the press, and to see that no more 
bills were printed than the law had prescribed. 
Accordingly they were constantly with us, each 
in his turn ; and he that came commonly brought 
with him a friend or two to bear him company. 
My mind was more cultivated by reading than 
Keimer's; and it was for this reason, probably, 
that they set more value on my conversation. 
They took me to their houses, introduced me to 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 83 

their friends, and treated me with the greatest 
civility; while Keimer, though master, saw him- 
self a little neglected. He was, in fact, a 
strange animal, ignorant of the common modes 
of life, apt to oppose with rudeness generally re- 
ceived opinions, an enthusiast in certain points 
of religion, disgustingly unclean in his person, 
and a little knavish withal. 

We remained there nearly three months; and 
at the expiration of this period I could include 
in the list of my friends, Judge Allen, Samuel 
Bustil, Secretary of the province, Isaac Pearson, 
Joseph Cooper, several of the Smiths, all mem- 
bers of the Assembly, and. Isaac Docon, Inspec- 
tor-general. The last was a shrewd and subtle old 
man. He told me, that when a boy, his first em- 
ployment had been that of carrying clay to 
brick-makers ; that he did not learn to write till 
he was somewhat advanced in life ; that he was af- 
terwards employed as an underling to a survey- 
or, who taught him this trade, and that by indus- 
try he had at last acquired a competent fortune. 
" I foresee, " said he one day to me, " that you 
will soon supplant this man (speaking of Keimer,) 
and get a fortune in the business at Philadel- 
phia. " He was totally ignorant at the time, of 
my intention of establishing myself there, or any 
where else. These friends were very serviceable 
to me in the end, as was I also, upon occasion, 
to some of them ; and they have continued ever 
since their esteem for me. 

Before I relate the particulars of my entrance' 
into business, it may be proper to inform you 
what was at that time the state of my mind as 
to moral principles, that you may see the degree 
of influence they had upon the subsequent events 
of my life. 

My parents had given me betimes religious im* 



SI LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

pressions, and I received from my infancy a pious 
education in the principles of Calvinism. But 
scarcely was I arrived at fifteen years of age, 
when, after having 1 doubted in turn of different 
tenets, accordingly as I found them combatted in 
the different books that I read, I began to doubt 
of revelation itself. Some volumes against deism 
fell into my hands. They were said to be the 
substance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lec- 
ture. It happened that they produced on me an 
effect precisely the reverse of what was intended 
by the writers; for the arguments of the deists, 
which were cited in order to be refuted, appear- 
ed to me much more forcible than the refutation 
itself. In a word, I soon became a perfect deist 
My arguments perverted some other young per 
sons, particularly Collins and Ralph. But in the 
sequel, when I recollected that they had both 
used me extremely ill, without the smallest re- 
morse ; when I considered the behaviour of 
Keith, another free-thinker, and my own con- 
duct towards Vernon and Miss Read, which at 
times gave me great uneasiness, I was led to 
suspect that this doctrine, though it might be 
true, was not very useful. I began to entertain a 
less favorable opinion of my London pamphlet, 
to which I had prefixed, as a motto, the follow- 
ing lines of Dryden: 

Whatever is is right; though purblind man- 
Sees but part of the chain, the nearest link, 
His eyes not carrying to the equal beam 
That poises all above. 

And of which the object was to prove, from the 
attributes of God, his goodness, wisdom, and 
power, that there could be no such thing as evil 
in the world ; that vice and virtue did not in re- 
ality exist, and were nothing more than vain dis- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 85 

tinctions. I do longer regarded it as- so blame- 
less a work as I had formerly imagined ; and I 
suspected that some error must have impercep- 
tibly glided into my argument, by which all the 
inferences I had drawn from it had been affected, 
as frequently happens in metaphysical reason- 
ings. In a word, I was at last convinced that 
truth, probity, and sincerity, in transactions be- 
tween man and man, were of the utmost impor- 
tance to the happiness of life ; and I resolved 
from that moment, and wrote the resolution in 
my Journal, to practise them as long as I lived. 

Revelation, indeed, as such, had no influence 
on my mind; but I was of opinion that, though 
certain actions could not be bad merely because 
revelation had prohibited them, or good because 
it enjoined them, yet it was probable that those 
actions were prohibited because they were bad 
for us, or enjoined because advantageous in their 
nature, all things considered. This persuasion, 
Divine Providence, or some guardian angel, and 
perhaps a concurrence of favorable circumstan- 
ces co-operating, preserved me from all immo- 
rality, or gross and voluntary injustice, to which 
my want of religion was calculated to expose 
me, in the dangerous period of youth, and in the 
hazardous situations in which I sometimes found 
myself, among strangers, and at a distance from 
the eye and admonitions of my father. I may say 
voluntary, because the errors into which I had 
fallen, had been in a manner the forced result 
either of my own inexperience, or the dishonesty 
of others. Thus, before I entered on my own 
new career, I had imbibed solid principles, and 
a character of probity. I knew their value ; and 
I made a solemn engagement with myself never 
to depart from them. 

I had not long returned from Burlington before 
8 



86 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

our printing materials arrived from London. I 
settled my accounts Avith Keimer, and quitted 
him with his own consent, before he had any 
knowledge of our plan. We found a house to let 
near the market. We took it, and, to render 
the rent less burdensome (it was then twenty- 
four pounds a year, but I have since known it let 
for seventy,) we admitted Thomas Godfrey, a 
glazier, with his family, who eased us of a con- 
siderable part of it ; and with him we agreed to 
board. 

We had no sooner unpacked our letter, and 
put our press in order, than a person of my ac- 
quaintance, George House, brought us a country- 
man, whom he had met in the streets inquiring 
for a printer. Our money was almost exhausted 
by the number of things we had been obliged to 
procure. The five shillings we received from 
this countryman, the first fruit of our earnings, 
coming so seasonably, gave me more pleasure 
than any sum I have since gained; and the recol- 
lection of the gratitude I felt on this occasion to 
George House has rendered me often more dis- 
posed, than perhaps I should otherwise have been, 
to encourage young beginners in trade. 

There are in every country morose being* 
who are always prognosticating ruin. Then . 
was one of this stamp at Philadelphia. He w; 
*a man of fortune, declined in years, had an a: • 
of wisdom, and a very grave manner of speakinp 
His name was Samuel Mickle. I knew him noi 
but he stopped one day at my door, and aske< 
me if I was the young man who had lately open- 
ed a new printing-house. Upon my answering 
in the affirmative, he said that he was very sorry 
for me, as it was an expensive undertaking, and 
the money that had been laid out upon it would 
be lost, Philadelphia being a place falling into 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 87 

decay; its inhabitants having all, or nearly all of 
them, been obliged to call together their credi- 
tors. That he knew, from undoubted fact, the 
circumstances which might lead us to suppose 
the contrary, such as new buildings and the ad- 
vanced price of rent, to be deceitful appear- 
ances, which in reality contributed to hasten the 
general ruin; and he gave me so long a detail of 
misfortunes actually existing, or which were 
soon to take place, that he left me almost in a 
state of despair. Had I known this man before 
I entered into trade, I should doubtless never 
have ventured. He continued, however, to live 
in this place of decay, and to declaim in the same 
style, refusing for many years to buy a house, 
because all was going to wreck; and in the end 
I had the satisfaction to see him pay five times as 
much for one as it would have cost, him had he 
purchased it when he first began his lamentations. 
I ought to have related, that, during the au- 
tumn of the preceding year, I had united the ma- 
jority of well-informed persons of my acquaint- 
ance into a club, which we called by the name 
of the Junto, and the object of which was to im- 
prove our understandings. We met every Fri- 
day evening. The Regulations I drew up, obli- 
ged every member to propose, in his turn, one 
or more questions upon some point of morality, 
politics, or philosophy, which were to be discuss- 
ed by the Society; and to read, once in three 
months, an Essay of his own composition, on 
whatever subject h^ pleased. Our debates were 
under the direction of a President, and were to 
be dictated only by a sincere desire of truth; 
the pleasure of disputing and the vanity of .tri- 
umph having no share in the business; and in 
order to prevent undue warmth, every expres- 
sion which implied obstinate adherence to an. 



83 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

opinion, and all direct contradiction, were pro- 
hibited, under small pecuniary penalties. 

The first members of our Club were Joseph 
Breintnal, whose occupation was that of a scriv- 
ener. He was a middle-aged man, of a good na- 
tural disposition, strongly attached to his friends, 
a great lover of poetry, reading every thing that 
came in his way and writing tolerably well, in- 
genious in many little trifles, and of an agreea- 
ble conversation. 

Thomas Godfrey, a skilful though self-taught 
mathematician, and who was afterwards the in- 
ventor of what now goes by the name of Had- 
ley's Dial: but he had little knowledge out of his 
own line, and was insupportable in company, al- 
ways requiring, like the majority of mathemati- 
cians that have fallen in my way, an unusual pre- 
cision in every thing that is said, continually 
contradicting, or making trifling distinctions; 
a sure way of defeating all the ends of conver- 
sation. He very soon left us. 

Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who became 
afterwards Surveyor-general. He was fond of 
books, and wrote verses. 

"William Parsons, brought up to the trade of a 
shoemaker, but who, having a taste for reading, 
had acquired a profound knowledge of mathe- 
matics. He first studied them with a view to 
astrology, and was afterwards the first to laugh 
at his folly. He also became Surveyor-general. 

William Mawgride, a joiner, and very excel- 
lent mechanic; and in other respects a man of 
solid understanding. 

Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George 
Webb, of whom I have already spoken. 

Robert Grace, a young man of fortune; gen- 
erous, animated, and witty; fond of epigrams, 
hut more fond of his friends. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 89 

And, lastly, William Coleman, at that time a 
merchant's clerk, and nearly of my own age. 
He had a cooler and clearer head, a better 
heart, and more scrupulous morals, than almost 
any other person I have ever met with. He be- 
came a very respectable merchant, and one of 
our provincial judges. Our friendship subsisted, 
without interruption, for more than forty years, 
till the period of his death; and the Club, contin- 
ued to exist almost as long. 

This was the best school for politics and 
philosophy that then existed in the province ; for 
our questions, which were read once a week 
previous to their discussion, induced us to peruse 
attentively such books as were written upon the 
subjects proposed, that we might be able to 
speak upon them more pertinently. We thus ac- 
quired the habit of conversing more agreeably ; 
every object being discussed conformably to our 
regulations, and in a manner to prevent mutual 
disgust. To this circumstance maybe attributed 
the long duration of the Club ; which I shall have 
frequent occasion to mention as I proceed. 

I have introduced it here, as being one of the 
means on which I had to count for success in my 
business, every member exerting himself to pro- 
cure work for us. Breintnal, among others, ob- 
tained for us, on the part of the Quakers, the 
printing of forty sheets of their history ; of which 
the rest was to be done by Keimer. Our execu- 
tion of this work was by no means masterly; as 
the price was very low. It was in folio, upon 
pro palria paper, and in the pica letter, with 
heavy, notes in the smallest type. I composed a 
sheet a day, and Meredith put it to the press. 
It was frequently eleven o'clock at night, some- 
times later, before I had finished my distribution 
for the next day's task; for the little things 



90 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

which our friends occasionally sent us, kept us 
back in this work: but I was so determined to 
compose a sheet a day, that one evening, when 
my form was imposed, and my day's work, as I 
thought, at an end, an accident having broken 
this form, and deranged two complete folio pages, 
I immediately distributed, and composed them 
anew before I went to bed. 

This unwearied industry, which was perceived 
fry our neighbors, began to acquire us reputation 
and credit. I learned, among other things, that 
our new printing-house, being the subject of con- 
versation at a Club of merchants, who met every, 
evening, it was the general opinion that it would 
fail; there being already two printing-house3 in 
the town, Keimer's and Bradford's. But Dr. 
Bard, whom you and I had occasion to see, many 
years after, at his native town of St. Andrews, 
in Scotland, was of a different opinion. "The 
industry of this Franklin (said he) is superior to 
any thing of the kind I have ever witnessed. I 
see him still at work when I return from the Club 
at night, and he is at it again in the morning be- 
fore his neighbors are out of bed. " This account 
struck the rest of the assembly, and, shortly 
after, one of its members came to our house, and 
offered to supply us with articles of stationary ; 
but we wished not as yet to embarrass ourselves 
with keeping a shop. It is not for the sake of 
applause that I enter so freely into the particu- 
lars of my industry, but that such of my descend- 
ants as shall read these Memoirs may know the 
use of this virtue, by seeing in the recital of my 
life the effects it operated in my favor. 

George Webb, having found a friend who lent 
him the necessary sum to buy out his time of 
Keimer, came one day to offer himself to us as 
a journeyman. We could not employ him imme- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 91 

diately ; but I foolishly told him, under the rose, 
that I intended shortly to publish a new period- 
ical paper, and that we should then have work 
for him. My hopes of success, which I imparted 
to him, were founded on the circumstance, that 
the only paper we had- in Philadelphia at that 
time, and which Bradford printed, was a paltry 
thing 1 , miserably conducted, in no respect amus- 
ing, and which yet was profitable. I consequent- 
ly supposed that a good work of this kind could 
not fail of success. Webb betrayed my secret 
to Keimer, who, to prevent me, immediately 
published the prospectus of a paper that he in- 
tended to institue himself, and in which Webb 
was to be engaged. 

I was exasperated at this proceeding, and with 
a view to counteract them, not being able at 
present to institute my own paper, I wrote some 
humorous pieces in Bradford's, under the title 
of the Busy Body;* and which was continued 
for several months by Breintnal. I hereby fixed 
the attention of the public upon Bradford's 
paper ; and the prospectus of Keimer, which we 
turned into ridicule, was treated with contempt. 
He began, notwithstanding, his paper; and after 
continuing it for nine months, having at most 
not more than ninety subscribers, he offered it 
me for a mere trifle. I had for some time been 
ready for such an engagement ; I therefore in- 
stantly took it upon myself, and in a few years 
it proved extremely profitable to me. 

I perceive that I am apt to speak in the first 
person, though our partnership still continued. 
It is, perhaps, because, in fact, the whole bu- 

* A manuscript note in the file of the American Mercu- 
ry, preserved in the Philadelphia library, says, that 
Franklin wrote the five first numbers, and part of the 
eighth. 



93 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

einess devolved upon me. Meredith was no com- 
positor, and but an indifferent pressman; and it 
was rarely that he abstained from hard drinking. 
My friends were sorry to see me connected with 
him ; but I contrived to derive from it the ut- 
most advantage the case admitted. 

Our first number produced no other effect than 
any other paper which had appeared in the Pro- 
vince, as to type and printing; but some re- 
marks, in my peculiar style of writing, upon the 
dispute which then prevailed between Governor 
Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly, struck 
some persons as above mediocrity, caused the 
paper and its editors to be talked of, and in a 
few weeks induced them to become our subscri- 
bers. Many others followed their example , and 
our subscription continued to increase. This was 
one of the first good effects of the pains I hap* 
taken to learn to put my ideas on paper. I de- 
rived this farther advantage from it, that the lead- 
ing men of the place, seeing in the author of this 
publication a man so well able to use his pen, 
thought it right to patronise and encourage me. 

The votes, laws, and other public pieces were 
printed by Bradford. An address of the House 
of Assembly to the Governor had been executed 
fey him in a very coarse and incorrect manner. 
We reprinted it with accuracy and neatness, and 
sent a copy to every member. They perceived 
the difference ; and it so strengthened the influ- 
ence of our friends in the Assembly, that we 
were nominated its printer for the following 
year. 

Among these friends I ought not to forget one 
member in particular, Mr. Hamilton, whom I 
have mentioned in a former part of my narra- 
tive, and who was now returned from England. 
He warmly interested himself for me on this oc- 



. LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 93 

easion, as he did likewise on many others after- 
wards, having continued this kindness to me till 
his death. 

About this period Mr. Vern'on reminded me of 
the debt I owed him, but without pressing me 
for payment. I wrote a handsome letter on the 
occasion, begging him to wait a little longer, to 
which he consented ; and as soon as I was able I 
paid him principal and interest, with many ex- 
pressions of gratitude ; so that this error of my 
life was in a manner atoned for. \ 

But another trouble now happened to me, 
which I had not the smallest reason to expect. 
Meredith's father, who, according to our agree- 
ment, was to defray the whole expense of our 
printing materials, had only paid a hundred 
pounds. Another hundred was still due, and the 
merchant being tired of waiting, commenced a 
suit against us. We bailed the action, but with 
the melancholy prospect, that, if the money was 
not forthcoming at the time fixed, the affair 
would come to issue, judgment be put in execu- 
tion, our delightful hopes be annihilated, and 
ourselves entirely ruined; as the type and press 
must be sold, perhaps at half their value, to pay 
the debt. 

In this distress, two real friends, whose gen- 
erous conduct I have never forgotten, and never 
shall forget while I retain the remembrance of 
any thing, came to me separately, without the 
knowledge of each other, and without my having 
applied to either of them. Each offered what- 
ever money might be necessary to take the busi- 
ness into my own hands, if the thing was practi- 
cable, as they did not like I should continue in 
partnership with Meredith, who, they said, was 
frequently seen drunk in the streets, and gam- 
bling at alehouses, which very much injured ou 



94 LIFF. OF FRANKLIN. 

credit. These friends were William Coleman, 
and Robert Grace. I told them that while there 
remained any probability that the Merediths 
would fulfil their part of the compact, 1 could 
not propose a separation, as I conceived myself 
to be under obligations, to them for what they 
had done already, and were still disposed to do, 
if they had the power; but, in the end, should 
they fail in their engagement, and our partner- 
ship be dissolved, I should then think myself at 
liberty to accept the kindness of my friends. 

Things remained for some time in this state. 
At last, I said one day to my partner, " Your 
father is perhaps dissatisfied with your having a 
share only in the business, and is unwilling to do 
for two, what he would do for you alone. Tell 
me frankly if that be the case, and I will resign 
the whole to you, and do for myself as well as I 
can." " No, (said he) my father has really been 
disappointed in his hopes; he is not able to pay, 
and I wish to put him to no farther inconveni- 
ence. I see that I am not at all calculated for 
a printer; I was educated as a farmer, and it was_ 
absurd in me to come here, at thirty years of age, 
and bind myself an apprentice to a new trade. 
Many of my countrymen are going to settle in 
North Carolina, where the soil is exceedingly 
favorable. I am tempted to go with them, and 
to resume my former occupation. You will 
doubtless find friends who will assist you. If yoi* 
will take upon yourself the debts of the partner- 
ship, return my father the hundred pounds he has 
advanced, pay my little personal debts, and give 
me thirty pounds and a new saddle, I will re- 
nounce the partnership, and consign over the 
whole stock to you." 

I accepted this proposal without hesitation. It 
was committed to paper, and signed and sealed 






LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 95 

"without delay. I gave him what he demanded, 
and he departed soon after for Carolina, from 
whence he sent me, in the following year, two 
long letters, containing the best accounts that 
had yet been given of that country, as to climate, 
soil, agriculture, &c. for he was well versed in 
these matters. I published them in my news- 
paper, and they were received with great satis- 
faction. 

As soon as he was gone, I applied to my two 
friends, and not wishing to give a disobliging 
preference to either of them, I accepted from 
each half what he had offered me, and which it 
was necessary I should have. I paid the part- 
nership debts, and continued the business on my 
own account; taking care to inform the public, 
by advertisement, of the partnership being dis- 
solved. This was, I think, in the year 1729, or 
thereabout. 

Nearly at the same period, the people deman- 
ded a new emission of paper money; the existing 
and only one that had taken place in the Prov- 
ince, and which amounted to fifteen thousand 
pounds, being soon to expire. The wealthy in- 
habitants, prejudiced against every sort of paper 
currency, from the fear of its depreciation, of 
which there had been an instance in the Prov- 
ince of New England, to the injury of its holders, 
strongly opposed this measure. We had discuss- 
ed this affair in our junto, in which I was on the 
side of the new emission; convinced that the first 
small sum, fabricated in 1723, had done much 
good in the Province, by favoring commerce, in- 
dustry, and population, since all the houses were 
now inhabited, and many others building; where- 
as I remembered to have seen, when I first para- 
ded the streets of Philadelphia eating my roll, 
the majority of those in Walnut Street, Second 



96 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

Street, Fourth Street, as well as a great number 
in Chestnut and other streets, with papers on 
them signifying that they were to be let ; which 
made me think at the time that the inhabitants 
of the town were deserting it one after another. 

Our debates made me so fully master of the 
subject, that I wrote and published an anony- 
mous pamphlet, entitled, "An Inquiry into the 
Nature and Necessity of Paper Currency." It 
was very well received by the lower and mid- 
dling classes of people ; but it displeased the 
opulent, as it increased the clamor in favor of the 
new emission. Having, however, no writer 
among them capable of answering it, their oppo- 
sition became less violent; and there being in 
the House of Assembly a majority for the mea- 
sure, it passed. The friends I had acquired in 
the House, persuaded that I had done the coun- 
try essential service on this occasion., rewarded 
me by giving me the printing of the bills. It was 
a lucrative employment, and proved a very sea- 
sonable help to me ; another advantage which I 
derived from having habituated myself to write. 

Time and experience so fully demonstrated 
the utility of paper currency, that it never after 
experienced any considerable opposition ; so 
that it soon amounted to 55,000/. and in the year 
1739 to 80,000/. It has since risen, during the 
last war, to 350,000/.; trade, buildings, and 
population having in the interval continually in- 
creased : but I am now convinced that there are 
limits beyond which paper money would be pre- 
judicial. 

I soon after obtained, by the influence of my 
friend Hamilton, the printing of the Newcastle 
paper money, another profitable work, as I then 
thought it, little things appearing great to per- 
sons of moderate fortune , and they were really 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 97 

great to me, as proving great encouragements. 
He also procured me the printing of the laws 
and votes of that government, which I retained 
as long as I continued in the business. 

I now opened a small stationer's shop. 1 kept 
bonds and agreements of all kinds, drawn up in. 
a more accurate form than had yet been seen in 
that part of the world ; a work in which I was 
assisted by my friend Breintnal. I had also 
paper, parchment, pasteboard, books, &c. One 
Whitemash, an excellent compositor, whom I 
had known in London, came to offer himself: I 
engaged him; and he continued constantly and 
diligently to work with me. I also took an ap- 
prentice, the son of Aquila Rose. 

I began to pay, by degrees, the debt I had 
contracted; and, in order to ensure my credit 
and character as a tradesman, I took care not 
only to be really industrious and frugal, but also 
to avoid every appearance of the contrary. I was 
plainly dressed, and never seen in any place of 
public amusement. I never went a fishing or 
hunting. A book indeed enticed me sometimes 
from my work, but it was seldom, by stealth, 
and occasioned no scandal; and, to show that I 
did not think myself above my profession, I con- 
veyed home sometimes in a wheelbarrow, the 
paper I had purchased at the warehouses. 

I thus obtained the reputation of being an in- 
dustrious young man, and very punctual in his 
payments. The merchants who imported articles 
of stationary solicited my custom; others offered 
to furnish me with books, and my little trade 
went on prosperously. 

Meanwhile the credit and business of Keimer 
diminishing every day, he was at last forced to 
sell his stock to satisfy his creditors ; and he be- 
took h'mself to Barbadoes, where he lived for 
9 E 



98 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

some time in a very impoverished state. His ap- 
prentice, David Harry, whom I had instructed 
while I worked with Keimer, having bought his 
materials, succeeded him in the business. I was 
apprehensive, at first, of finding in Harry a pow- 
erful competitor, as he was allied to an opulent 
and respectable family ; I therefore proposed a 
partnership, which, happily for me, he rejected 
with disdain. He was extremely proud, thought 
himself a fine gentleman, lived extravagantly, 
and pursued amusements which suffered him to 
be scarcely ever at home ; of consequence he 
became in debt, neglected his business, and bu- 
siness neglected him. Finding in a short time 
nothing to do in the country, be followed 
Keimer to Barbadoes, carrying his printing ma- 
terials with him. There the apprentice employ- 
ed his old master as a journeyman. They were 
continually quarrelling; and Harry, still getting 
in debt, was obliged at last to sell his press and 
types, and return to his old occupation of hus- 
bandry in Pennsylvania. The person who pur- 
chased them employed Keimer to manage the 
business, but he died a few years after. 

I had now at Philadelphia no competitor 
but Bradford, who, being in easy circumstan- 
ces, did not engage in the printing of books, 
except now and then as workmen chanced to 
offer themselves ; and was not anxious to ex- 
tend his trade. He had, however, one advan- 
tage over me, as he had the direction of the 
post-office, and was of consequence supposed to- 
have better opportunities of obtaining news. 
His paper was also supposed to be more advan- 
tageous to advertising customers ; and in conse- 
quence of that supposition, his advertisements- 
were much more numerous than mine: this was 
a source of great profit to him, and disadvantage- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 99 

©us to me. It was to no purpose that I really- 
procured other papers and distributed my own, 
by means of the post; the public took for grant- 
ed my inability in this respect; and I was indeed 
unable to conquer it in any other mode than by 
bribing the postboys, who served me only by 
stealth, Bradford being so illiberal as to forbid 
them. This treatment of his excited my resent- 
ment; and my disgust was so rooted that, when 
I afterwards succeeded him in the post-office, I 
took care to avoid copying his example* 

I had hitherto continued to board with God- 
frey, who, with his wife and children, occupied 
part of my house, and half of the shop for his 
business ; at which indeed he worked very little, 
being always absorbed by mathematics. Mrs. 
Godfrey formed a wish of marrying me to the 
daughter of one of her relations. She contrived 
various opportunities of bringing us together, 
till she saw that I was captivated ; which was 
not difficult; the lady in question possessing 
great personal merit. The parents encouraged 
my addresses, by inviting me continually to sup- 
per,, and leaving us together, till at last it was 
time to come to an explanation. Mrs. Godfrey 
undertook to negotiate our little treaty. I gave 
her to understand, that I expected to receive 
with the young lady a sum of money that would 
enable me at least to discharge the remainder of 
the debt for my printing materials. It was then, 
I believe, not more than a hundred pounds. She 
brought me for answer, that they had no such 
sum at their disposal. I observed that it might 
easily be obtained, by a mortgage on their 
house. The reply to this was, after a few days 
interval, that they did not approve of the match; 
that they had consulted Bradford, and found that 
the business of a printer was not lucrative ; that 



100 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

my letters would soon be worn out, and must be 
supplied by new ones ; that Keimer and Harry 
had failed, and that, probably, I should do so too. 
Accordingly they forbade me the house, and the 
young lady was confined. I know not if they 
had really changed their minds, or if it was 
merely an artifice, supposing our affections to be 
too far engaged for us to desist, and that we 
should contrive to marry secretly, which would 
leave them at liberty to give or not as they 
pleased. But, suspecting this motive, I never 
went again to their house. 

Some time after, Mrs. Godfrey informed me 
that they were favorably disposed towards me, 
and wished me to renew the acquaintance ; but 
I declared a firm resolution never to have any 
thing more to do with the family. The Godfreys 
-expressed some resentment at this; and as we 
could no longer agree, they changed their resi- 
dence, leaving me in possession of the whole 
house. I then resolved to take no more lodgers. 
This affair having turned my thoughts to mar- 
riage, I looked around me, and made overtures 
of alliance in other quarters; but I soon found 
that the profession of a printer, being generally 
looked upon as a poor trade, I could expect no 
money with a wife, at least if I wished her to 
possess any other charm. Meanwhile, that pas- 
sion of youth, so difficult to govern, had often 
drawn me into intrigues with despicable women 
who fell in my way; which were not unaccom- 
panied with expense and inconvenience, besides 
the perpetual risk of injuring my health, and 
catching a disease which I dreaded above all 
things. But I was fortunate enough to escape 
this danger. 

As a neighbor and old acquaintance, I had 
kept up a friendly intimacy with the family of 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 101 

Miss Read. Her parents had retained an affec- 
tion for me from the time of my lodging* in their 
house. I was often invited thither; they consult- 
ed me about their affairs, and I had been some- 
times serviceable to them. I was touched with 
the unhappy situation of their daughter, who was 
almost always melancholy, and continually seek- 
ing solitude. I regarded my forgetfulness and 
inconstancy, during my abode in London, as the 
principal part of her misfortune, though her 
mother had the candor to attribute the fault to 
herself, rather than to me, because, after hav- 
ing prevented our marriage previously to my de- 
parture, she had induced her to marry another 
in my absence. 

Our mutual affection revived ; but there exist- 
ed great obstacles to our union. Her marriage 
was considered, indeed, as not being valid, the 
man having, it was said, a former wife, still liv- 
ing in England ; but of this it was difficult to ob- 
tain a proof at so great a distance ; and though 
a report prevailed of his being dead, yet We had 
no certainty of it; and supposing it to be true, 
he had left many debts, for the payment of which 
his successor might be sued. We ventured, 
nevertheless, in spite of all these difficulties ; and 
I married her on the 1st of September, 1730. 
None of the inconveniences we had feared hap- 
pened to us. She proved to me a good and faith- 
ful companion, and contributed essentially to 
the success of my shop. We prospered together, 
and it was our mutual study to render each other 
happy. Thus I corrected, as well as I could, this 
great error of my youth. 

Our Club was not at that time established at a 

tavern. We held our meetings at the house of 

Mr. Grace, who appropriated a room to the pur- 

jpose. Some member observed one day that as 

9* 



102 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

our books were frequently quoted in the course 
of our discussions, it would be convenient to 
have them collected in the room in which we as- 
sembled, in order to be consulted upon occa- 
sion, and that, by thus forming a common libra- 
ry of our individual collections, each would have 
the advantage of using the books of all the other 
members, which would nearly be the same as if 
he possessed them all himself. The idea was ap- 
proved, and wc accordingly brought such books 
as we thought we could spare, which were placed 
at the end of the Club-room. They amounted 
not to so many as we expected ; and though we 
made considerable use of them, yet some incon- 
veniences resulting, from want of care, it was 
agreed, after about a year, to discontinue the 
collection ; and each took away such books as 
belonged to him. 

It was now, that I first started the idea of es- 
tablishing, by subscription, a public library. I 
drew up the proposals, had them engrossed in 
form by Brockden, the attorney, and my project 
succeeded, as will be seen in the sequel. * * 

[The life of Dr. Franklin, as written by him- 
self, so far as it has yet been communicated to 
the world, breaks off in this place. We under- 
stand that it was continued by him somewhat 
farther, and we hope that the remainder will, at 
some future period, be communicated to the 
public. We have no hesitation in supposing that 
every reader will find himself greatly interested 
by the frank simplicity and the philosophical dis- 
cernment by which these pages are so eminently 
characterized. We have therefore thought pro- 
per, in order as much as possible to relieve his 
regret, to subjoin the following continuation, by 




LIFE OF FRANKLIX 10S 

one of the Doctor's intimate friends. It is ex- 
tracted from an American periodical publica- 
tion, and was written by the late Dr. Stuber* of 
Philadelphia.] 



The promotion of literature had been little 
attended to in Pennsylvania. Most of the inhab- 
itants were too much immersed in business to 
think of scientific pursuits ; and those few, whose 
inclinations led them to study, found it difficult 
to gratify them, from the want of libraries suffi- 
ciently large. In such circumstances, the estab- 
lishment of a public library was an important 
event. This was first set on foot by Franklin, 
about the year 1731. Fifty persons subscribed 
forty shillings each, and agreed to pay ten shil- 
lings annually. The number increased; and, in 
1742, the company was incorporated by the 

* Dr. Stuber was born in Philadelphia, of German pa- 
rents. He was sent, at an early age, to the university 
where his genius, diligence, and amiable temper soon ac- 
quired him the particular notice and favor of those under 
whose immediate direction he was placed. After passing 
through the common course of stucfy, in a much shorter 
time than usual, he left the university, at the age of six- 
teen, with great reputation. Not long after, he entered on 
the study of physic ; and the zeal with which he pursued 
it, and the advances he made, gave his friends reason to 
form the most flattering prospects of his future eminence and 
usefulness in his profession. As Dr. Stuber's circumstances 
were very moderate, he did not think this pursuit well cal- 
culated to answer them. He therefore relinquished it, after 
he had obtained a degree in the profession,, and qualified 
himself to practise with credit and success; and immediate- 
ly entered on the study of the law. While in pursuit of 
the last-mentioned object he was prevented, by a premature 
death, from reaping the fruit of those talents with which he 
was endowed, and of a youth spent in the ardent and suc- 
cessful pursuit of useful" and elegant literature. 



104 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

name of "The Library Company of Philadel- 
phia." Several other companies were formed in 
this city in imitation of it. These were all at 
length united with the Library Company of Phil- 
adelphia, which thus received a considerable ac- 
cession of books and property. It now contains 
about eight thousand volumes on all subjects, a 
philosophical apparatus, and a well-chosen col- 
lection of natural and artificial curiosities. For 
its support the Company now possessed landed 
property of considerable value. They have late- 
ly built an elegant house in Fifth Street, in the 
front of which will be erected a marble statue of 
their founder, Benjamin Franklin. 

This institution was greatly encouraged by the 
friends of literature in America and in Great 
Britain. The Penn family distinguished them- 
selves by their donations. Amongst the earliest 
friends of this institution must bo mentioned the 
late Peter Collinson, the friend and companion 
of Dr. Franklin. He not only made considerable 
presents himself, and obtained others from his 
friends, but voluntarily undertook to manage the 
business of the Company in London, recommend? 
ing books, purchasing and shipping them. His 
extensive knowledge, and zeal for the promotion 
of science, enabled him to execute this important 
trust with the greatest advantage. He continur 
ed to perform these services for more than thirty 
years, and uniformly refused to accept of any 
compensation. During this time, he communi- 
cated to the Directors every information relative 
to improvements and discoveries in the arts, 
agriculture, and philosophy. 

The beneficial influence of this institution was 
soon evident. The terms of subscription to it 
were so moderate that it was accessible to every 
/one Its advantages were not confined to the 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 105 

opulent. The citizens in the middle and lower 
walks of life were equally partakers of them. 
Hence a degree of information was extended 
amongst all classes of people. The example was 
soon followed. Libraries were established in 
various places, and they are now become very 
numerous in the United States, and particularly 
in Pennslyvania. It is to be hoped that they will 
be still more widely extended, and that informa- 
tion will be every where increased. This will be 
the best security for maintaining our liberties. 
A nation of well-informed men, who have been 
taught to know and prize the rights which God 
has given them, cannot be enslaved. It is in the 
regions of ignorance that tyranny reigns. It flies 
before the light of science. Let the citizens of 
America, then, encourage institutions calculat- 
ed to diffuse knowledge amongst the people ; and 
amongst these public libraries are not the least 
important. 

In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Rich- 
ard's Almanac. This was remarkable for the 
numerous and valuable concise maxims which it 
contained, all tending to exhort to industry and 
frugality. It was continued for many years. In 
the almanac for the last year, all the maxims 
were collected in an address to the reader, en- 
titled, "The Way to Wealth." This has been 
translated into various languages, and inserted 
in different publications. It has also been print- 
ed on a large sheet, and may be seen framed in 
many houses in this city. This address contains, 
perhaps, the best practical system of economy 
that ever has appeared. It is written in a man- 
ner intelligible to every one, and which cannot 
fail of convincing every reader of the justice and 
propriety of the remarks and advice which it 
contains. The demand for this almanac was so 
e2 



10« LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

great that ten thousand have been sold in one 
year; which must be considered as a very large 
number, especially when we reflect, that this 
country was, at that time but thinly peopled 
It cannot be doubted that tbe salutary maxims 
contained in these almanacs must have made a 
favorable impression upon many of the readers of 
the ra- 
it was not long before Franklin entered upon 
his political career. In the year 1736, he was 
appointed Clerk to the General Assembly of 
Pennsylvania ; and was re-elected by succeeding 
assemblies for several years, until he was cho- 
sen a representative for the City of Philadel- 
phia. 

Bradford was possessed of some advantages 
over Franklin, by being Post-master, thereby 
having an opportunity of circulating his paper 
more extensively, and thus rendering it abetter 
vehicle for advertisements, &c, Franklin, in his 
turn^ enjoyed these advantages, by being ap- 
pointed Post-master of Philadelphia in 1737. 
Bradford, while in office, had acted ungenerous- 
ly towards Franklin, preventing as much as pos- 
sible the circulation of his paper. He had now 
an opportunity of retaliating; but his nobleness 
of soul prevented him from making use of it. 

The police of Philadelphia had early appointed 
watchmen, whose duty it was to guard the citi- 
zens against the midnight robber, and to give an 
immediate alarm in case of fire. This duty is, 
perhaps, one of the most important that can be 
committed to any set of men. The regulations, 
however, were not sufficiently strict. Franklin 
saw the dangers arising from this cause, and sug- 
gested an alteration, so as to oblige the guar 
dians of the night to be more watchful over the 
Jives and property of the citizens. The proprie-- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 107 

ty of this was immediately perceived, and a re- 
form was effected. 

There is nothing more dangerous to growing 
cities than fires. Other causes operate slowly, 
and almost imperceptibly; but these in a mo-, 
ment render abortive the labors of ages. On 
this account there should be, in all cities, ample 
provisions to prevent fires from spreading. Frank- 
lin early saw the necessity of these; and about 
the year 1738 formed the first fire company in^ 
this city. This example was soon followed by 
others; and there are now numerous fire compa- 
nies in the city and liberties. To these may be 
attributed, in a great degree, the activity in ex- 
tinguishing fires for which the citizens of Phila- 
delphia are distinguished, and the inconsiderable 
damage which this city has sustained from this 
cause. Some time after, Franklin suggested the 
plan of an association for insuring houses from 
loss by fire, which was adopted, and the associa- 
tion continues to this day. The advantages ex- 
perienced from it have been great. 

From the first establishment of Pennsylvania, 
a spirit of dispute appears to have prevailed 
amongst its inhabitants. During the lifetime of 
William Penn, the Constitution had been three 
times altered. After this period, the history of 
Pennsylvania is little else than a recital of the 
quarrels between the Proprietaries, or their Gov- 
ernors, and the Assembly. The Proprietaries 
contended for the right of exempting their lands 
from taxes; to which the Assembly would by no 
means consent. This subject of dispute inter- 
fered in almost every question, and prevented 
; the most salutary laws from being enacted. This 
at times subjected the people to great inconve- 
niences. In the year 1744, during a war be- 
tween France and Great Britain, some French 



108 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

and Indians had made inroads upon the frontier 
inhabitants of the Province, who were unprovi- 
ded for such an attack. It became necessary 
that the citizens should arm for their defence. 
Governor Thomas recommended to the Assem- 
bly, who were then sitting-, to pass a militia law. 
To this they would agree only upon condition 
that he should give his assent to certain laws, 
which appeared to them calculated to promote 
the interests of the people. As he thought these 
laws would be injurious to the Proprietaries, he 
refused his assent to them; and the Assembly 
broke up without passing a militia law. The 
situation of the Province was at this time truly 
alarming; exposed to the continual inroad of "an 
enemy, destitute of every means of defence. At 
this crisis Franklin stepped forth, and proposed 
to a meeting of the citizens of Philadelphia, a 
plan of a voluntary association for the defence of 
the Province. This was approved of, and signed 
by twelve hundred persons immediately. Copies 
were instantly circulated throughout the Prov- 
ince, and in a short time the number of signers 
amounted to ten thousand. Franklin was chosen 
Colonel of the Philadelphia regiment; but he did 
not think proper to accept of the honor. 

Pursuits of a different nature now occupied the 
greater part of his attention for some years. He 
engaged in a course of electrical experiments, 
with all the ardor and thirst for discovery which 
characterised the philosophers of that day. Of 
all the branches of experimental philosophy, 
electricity had been least explored. The attrac- 
tive power of amber is mentioned by Theophras- 
tus and Pliny, and from them by later naturalists. 
In the year 1600, Gilbert, an English physician, 
enlarged considerably the catalogue of substan- 
ces which have the property of attracting light 



.LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 109 

bodies. Boyle, Otto Guericke, a burgomaster of 
Magdeburg, celebrated as the inventor of the air 
pump, Dr. Wall, and Sir Isaac Newton, added 
some facts. Guericke first observed the repul- 
sive power of electricity, and the light and noise 
produced by it. In 1709, Hawesbec communi- 
cated some important observations and experi- 
ments to the world. For several years electri- 
city was entirely neglected, until Mr. Grey ap- 
plied himself to it in 1728, with great assiduity* 
He and his friend Mr. Wheeler made a great va- 
riety of experiments; in which they demonstra- 
ted, that electricity may be communicated from 
one body to another, even without being in con- 
tact, and in this way may be conducted to a 
great distance. Mr. Grey afterwards found, that 
by suspending rods of iron by silk or hair lines, 
and bringing an excited tube under them, sparks 
might be drawn, and a light perceived at the ex- 
tremities in the dark. M< du Faye, intendant of 
the French king's gardens, made a number of 
experiments, which added not a little to the 
science* He made the discovery of two kinds of 
electricity, which he called vitreous and resinous; 
the former produced by rubbing glass, the latter 
from excited sulphur, sealingwax, &c. But this 
idea he afterwards gave up as erroneous. Be- 
tween the years 1739 and 1742, Desauguliers 
made a number of experiments, but added little 
of importance. He first used the terms conduc- 
tors and electrics per se. In 1742, several inge- 
nious Germans engaged in this subject; of these, 
the principal were, Professor Boze, of Wittem- 
berg, Professor Winkler, of Leipsic, Gordon, a 
Scotch Benedictine monk, professor of philoso- 
phy at Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf, of Berlin. The 
result of their researches astonished the philoso- 
phers of Europe. Their apparatus was large, and 
10 



110 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

by means of it they were enabled to collect large 
quantities of the electric fluid, and thus to pro- 
duce phenomena which had been hitherto unob- 
served. They killed small birds, and set spirits 
on fire. Their experiments excited the curiosity 
of other philosophers. Collinson, about the year 
1745, sent to the Library Company of Philadel- 
phia an account of these experiments, together 
with a tube, and directions how to use it. Frank- 
lin, with some of his friends, immediately enga- 
ged in a course of experiments; the result of 
which is well known. He was enabled to make 
a number of important discoveries; and to pro- 
pose theories to account for various phenomena, 
which have been universally adopted, and which 
bid* fair to endure for ages. His observations he 
communicated, in a series of letters, to his friend 
Collinson; the first of which is dated March 28, 
1747. In these he shows the power of points in 
drawing and- throwing off the electrical matter, 
which had hitherto escaped the, notice of elec- 
tricians. He also made the grand discovery of a 
plus and minus, or of a positive and negative state 
of electricity. We give him the honor of this 
without hesitation; although the English have 
claimed it for their countryman, Dr. Watson. 
Watson's paper is dated January 21 , 1748; Frank- 
lin's July 11, 1747; several months prior. Short- 
ly after, Franklin, from his principles of the plus 
and minus state, explained in a satisfactory man- 
ner, the phenomena of the Leyden phial, first 
observed by Mr. Cuneus, or by Professor Mus- 
chenbroeck, of Leyden, which had much per- 
plexed philosophers. He showed clearly, that 
the bottle, when charged, contained no more 
electricity than before, but that as much was ta- 
ken from one side as was thrown on the other; 
and that, to discharge it, nothing was necessary 



. LIFE OF FRANKLIN. Ill 

but to produce a communication between the 
two' sides by which the equilibrium might be re- 
stored, and that then no signs of electricity 
would remain. He afterwards 'demonstrated, by 
experiments, that the electricity did not reside 
In the coating, as had been supposed, but in the 
pores of the glass itself. After a phial was 
charged, he removed the coating, and found that 
upon applying a new coating the shock might 
still be received. In the year 1749, he first sug- 
gested his idea of explaining the phenomena of 
thunder gusts, and of the aurora borealis, upon 
electrical principles. He points out many par- 
ticulars in which lightning and electricity agree; 
and he adduces many facts, and reasonings from 
facts, in support of his positions. In the same 
year he conceived the astonishingly bold and 
grand idea of ascertaining the truth of his doc- 
trine, by actually drawing down the lightning, 
by means of sharp pointed iron rods raised into 
the regions of the clouds. Even in this uncer- 
tain state, his passion to be useful to mankind 
displays itself in a powerful manner. ' Admitting 
the identity of electricity and lightning, and 
knowing the power of points in repelling bodies 
charged with electricity, and in conducting their 
fire silently and imperceptibly, he suggested the 
idea of securing houses, ships, ^c. from being 
damaged by lightning, by erecting pointed rods, 
that should rise some feet above the most eleva- 
ted part, and descend some feet into the ground 
or the water. The effect of these, he concluded, 
would be either to prevent a stroke by repelling 
the cloud beyond the striking distance, or by 
drawing off the electrical fire which it contain- 
ed; or, if they could not effect this, they would at 
least conduct the electric matter to the earth, 
without any injury to the building. 



112 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

It was not until the summer of 1752, that he 
was enabled to complete his grand and unparal- 
leled discovery by experiment. This plan which 
he had originally proposed, was, to erect on some 
high tower, or other elevated place, a sentrybox, 
from which should rise a pointed iron rod, insu- 
lated by being fixed in a cake of resin. Electri- 
fied clouds passing over this, would, he conceiv- 
ed, impart to it a portion of their electricity, 
which would be rendered evident to the senses 
by sparks being emitted, when a key, the knuc- 
kle, or other conductor, was presented to it. 
Philadelphia at this time afforded no opportunity 
of trying an experiment of this kind. While 
Franklin was waiting for the erection of a spire, 
it occurred to him that he might have more 
ready access to the region of clouds by means of 
a common kite. He prepared one by fastening 
two cross sticks to a silk handkerchief, which 
would not suffer so much from the rain as paper. 
To the upright sticki was affixed an iron point. 
The string was, as usual, of hemp, except the 
lower end, which was silk. Where the hempen 
string terminated, a key was fastened. With 
this apparatus, on the appearance of a thunder 
gust approaching, he went out into the commons, 
accompanied by his son, to whom alone he com- 
municated his intentions, well knowing the ridi- 
cule which, too generally for the interest of 
science, awaits unsuccessful experiments in phi- 
losophy. He placed himself under a shade, to 
avoid the rain^-his kite was raised — a thunder- 
cloud passed over it — no sign of electricity ap^ 
peared. He almost despaired of success, when, 
suddenly, he observed the loose fibres of his 
string to move towards an erect position. He 
now presented his knuckle to the key, and re- 
ceived a strong spark. How exquisite must his 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 113 

sensations have been at this moment! On this 
experiment depesded the fate of his theory. If 
he succeeded, his name would rank high among 
those who had improved science; if he failed, he 
must inevitably be subjected to the derision of 
mankind, or, what is worse, their pity, as a well- 
meaning man, but a weak, silly projector. The 
anxiety with which he looked for the result of 
his experiment may be easily conceived. Doubts 
and despair had begun to prevail, when the fact 
was ascertained in so clear a manner, that even 
the most incredulous could no longer withhold 
their assent. Repeated sparks were drawn from 
the key, a phial was charged, a shock given, and 
all the experiments made which are usually per- 
formed with electricity. 

About a month before this period, some inge- 
nious Frenchman had completed the discovery in 
the manner originally proposed by Dr. Franklin. 
The letters which he sent to Mr. Collinson, it is 
said, were refused a place in the Transactions of 
the Royal Society of London. However this may 
be, Collinson published them in a separate 
volume, under the title of "New Experiments 
and Observations on Electricity made at Phila- 
delphia, in America." They were read with 
avidity, and soon translated into different lan- 
guages. A very incorrect French translation fell 
into the hands t>f the celebrated Buffon, who, 
notwithstanding the disadvantages under which 
the work labored, was much pleased with it, and 
repeated the experiments with success. He pre- 
vailed on his friend, M. D'Alibard, to give his 
countrymen a more correct translation of the 
works of the American electrician. This con- 
tributed much towards spreading a knowledge of 
Franklin's principles in France. The King, 
Leuis XV. hearing of these experiments, ex- 
• 10* 



114 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

pressed a wish to be a spectator of them. A 
course of experiments was given at the seat of 
the Due D'Ayen, at St. Germain, by M. de Lor. 
The applauses which the King bestowed upon 
Franklin excited in Buffon, D'Alibard, and De 
Lor, an earnest desire of ascertaining the truth 
of his theory of thunder gusts. Buffon erected 
his apparatus on the tower of Montbar, M. 
D'Alibard at Mary-la-ville, and De Lor at his 
house in the Estrapade at Paris, some of the 
highest ground in that capital. D'Alibard's ma- 
chine first showed signs of electricity. On the 
10th of May, 1752, a thundercloud passed over 
it, in the absence of M. D'Alibard, and a num- 
ber of sparks were drawn from it by Coiffier, a 
joiner, with whom D'Alibard had left directions 
how to proceed, and by M. Raulet, the prior of 
Mary-la-ville. An account of this experiment 
was given to the Royal Academy of Sciences, 
by 31. D'Alibard, in a Memoir, dated May 13th, 
1752. On the 18th»of May, M. De Lor proved 
equajly successful with the apparatus erected at 
his own house. These philosophers soon excited 
those of other parts of Europe to repeat the ex- 
periment, amongst whom none signalized them- 
selves more than Father Beccaria, of Turin, to 
whose observations science is much indebted. 
Even the cold regions of Russia were penetrated 
by the ardor for discovery. Professor Richman 
bade fair to add much to the stock of knowledge 
on this subject, when an unfortunate flash from his 
conductor put a period to his existence. The 
friends of science will long remember with re- 
gret the amiable martyr to electricity. 

By these experiments Franklin's theory was 
established in the most convincing manner. 
When the truth of it could no longer be doubted, 
envy and vanity endeavored to detract from its 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 115 

merit. That an American, an inhabitant of the 
obscure city of Philadelphia, the name of which 
was hardly known, should be able to make dis- 
coveries, and to frame theories, which had es- 
caped the notice of the enlightened philosophers 
of Europe, was too mortifying to be admitted. 
He must certainly have taken the idea from some 
one else. An American, a being of an inferior 
order, make discoveries! — Impossible. It was 
said, that the Abbe Noliet, 1743, had suggested 
the idea of the similarity of lightning and elec- 
tricity in his Leqons de Physique. It is true that 
the Abbe mentions the idea, but he throws it 
out as a bare conjecture, and proposes no mode 
of ascertaining the truth of it. He himself ac- 
knowledges, that Franklin first entertained the 
bold thought of bringing lightning from the heav- 
ens, by means of pointed iron rods fixed in the air. 
The similarity of lightning and electricity is so 
strong, that we need not be surprised at notice 
being taken of it, as soon as* electrical phenom- 
ena became familiar. We find it mentioned by 
Dr. Wall and Mr. Grey, while the science was 
in its infancy. But the honor of forming a regu- 
lar theory of thunder gusts, of suggesting a mode 
of determining the truth of it by experiments, 
and of putting these experiments in practice, 
and thus establishing the theory upon a firm and 
solid basis, is incontestibly due to Franklin. 
D'Alibard, who made the first experiments in 
France, says, that he only followed the track 
which Franklin had pointed out. 

It has been of late asserted, that- the honor of 
completing the experiment with the electrical 
kite does not belong to Franklin. Some late 
English paragraphs have attributed it to some 
Frenchman, whose name they do not mention; 
and the Abbe Bertholon gives it to M. de Romas, 



116 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

assessor to the presideal of Nirac: the English 
paragraphs probably refer to the same person. 
But a very slight attention will convince us of 
the injustice of this procedure: Dr. Franklin's 
experiment was made in June, 1752; and his 
letter, giving an account of it, is dated October 
19, 1752. M. de Romas made his first attempt 
on the 14th of May, 1753, but was not success- 
ful until the 7th of June; a year after Franklin 
had completed the discovery, and when it was 
known to all the philosophers in Europe. 

Besides these great principles, Franklin's let- 
ters on electricity contain a number of facts and 
hints, which have contributed greatly towards 
reducing this branch of knowledge to a science. 
His friend Mr. Kinnersley communicated to him 
a discovery of the different kinds of electricity, 
excited by rubbing glass and sulphur. This, we 
have said, was first observed by M. Du Faye; but 
it was for many years neglected. The philoso- 
phers were disposed to account for the phenome- 
na, rather from a difference in the quantity of 
electricity collected, and even Du Faye himself 
seems at last to have adopted this doctrine. 
Franklin at first entertained tne same idea; but, 
upon repeating the experiments, he perceived 
that Mr. Kinnersley was right; and that the 
vitreous and resinous electricity of Du Faye were 
nothing more than the positive and negative states 
which he had before observed; and that the glass 
globe charged positively, or increased the quan- 
tity of electricity on the prime conductor, while 
the globe of sulphur diminished its natural quan- 
tity, or charged negatively. These experiments 
and observations opened a new field for investi- 
gation, upon which electricians entered with 
avidity; and their labors have added much to the 
stock of our knowledge. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 117 

In September, 1752, Franklin entered upon a 
course of experiments, to determine the state of 
electricity in the clouds. From a number of ex- 
periments he formed this conclusion: — "That the 
clouds of a thunder gust are most commonly in a 
negative state of electricity, but sometimes in a 
positive state;" and from this it follows, as a ne- 
cessary consequence, "that for the most part, in 
thunder strokes, it is the earth that strikes into 
the clouds, and not the clouds that strike into 
the earth." The letter containing these observa- 
tions is dated in September, 1753; and yet the 
discovery of ascending thunder has been said to 
be of a modern date, and has been attributed to 
the Abbe Bertholon, who published his Memoir 
on the siibject in 1776. 

Franklin's letters have been translated into 
most of the European languages, and into Latin. 
In proportion as they have become known, his 
principles have been adopted. Some opposition 
was made to his theories, particularly by the 
Abbe Nollet, who was, however, but feebly sup- 
ported, while the first philosophers in Europe 
stepped forth in defence of Franklin's principles, 
amongst whom D'Alibard and Beccaria were the 
most distinguished. The opposition has gradually 
ceased, and the Franklinian system is now uni- 
versally adopted, where science flourishes. 

The important practical use which Franklin 
made of his discoveries, the securing of houses 
from injury by lightning, has been already men- 
tioned. Pointed conductors are now very com- 
mon in America; but prejudice has hitherto pre- 
vented their general introduction into Europe, 
notwithstanding the most undoubted proofs of 
their utility have been given. But mankind can 
with difficulty be brought to lay aside established 
practices, or to adopt new ones. And perhaps 



118 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

we have more reason to be surprised that a prac- 
tice, however rational, which was proposed 
about forty years ago, should in that time have 
been adopted in so many places, than that it has 
not universally prevailed. It is only by degrees 
that the great body cf mankind can be led into 
new practices, however salutary their tendency. 
It is now nearly eighty years since inoculation 
was introduced into Europe and America; and 
it is so far from being general at present, that it 
will require one or two centuries to render it so. 

In the year 1745, Franklin published an ac- 
count of his newly invented Pennsylvania fire- 
places, in which he minutely and accurately 
■states the advantages of different kinds of fire- 
places; and endeavors to show, that the one 
which he describes is to be preferred to any 
other. This contrivance has' given rise to the 
open stoves now in general use, which, however, 
differ from it in construction, particularly in 
not having an air-box at the back, through which 
a constant supply of air, warmed in its passage, 
is thrown into the room. The advantages of this 
are, that as a stream of warm air is continually 
flowing into th-e room, less fuel is necessary to 
preserve a proper temperature, and the room may 
be so tightened as that no air may enter through 
the cracks — the consequences of which are colds, 
toothaches, &c. 

Although philosophy was a principal object of 
Franklin's pursuit for several years, he confined 
himself not to this. In the year 1747, he be- 
came a member of the general assembly of Penn- 
sylvania, as a burgess for the city of Philadel- 
phia. Warm disputes subsisted at this time be- 
tween the Assembly and the Proprietaries; each 
contending for what they conceived to be their 
■just rights. Franklin, a friend to the rights of 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 119 

man from his infancy, soon distinguished himself 
a steady opponent of the unjust schemes of the 
Proprietaries. He was soon looked up to as the 
head of the opposition; and to him have been at- 
tributed many of the spirited replies of the As- 
sembly to the messages of the Governors. His in- 
fluence in the body was very great. This arose 
not from any superior powers of eloquence; he 
spoke but seldom, and he never was known to 
make any thing like an elaborate harangue. His 
speeches often consisted of a single sentence, of 
a well-told story, the moral of which was ob- 
viously to the point. He never attempted the 
flowery fields of oratory. His manner was plain 
and mild. His style in speaking was, like that 
of his writings, simple, unadorned, and remark- 
ably concise. With this plain manner, and his 
penetrating and solid judgment, he was able to 
confound the most eloquent and subtle of his ad- 
versaries, to confirm the opinions of his friends, 
and to make converts of the unprejudiced who 
had opposed him. With a single observation, 
he has rendered of no avail an elegant and 
lengthy discourse, and determined the fate of a 
question of importance. 

But he was not contented with thus supporting 
the rights of the people. He wished to render 
them permanently secure, which can only be 
done by making their value properly known; and 
this must depend upon increasing and extending 
information to every class of men. We have 
already seen that he was the founder of the pub- 
lic library, which contributed greatly towards 
improving the minds of the citizens. But this 
was not sufficient. The schools then subsisting 
were in general of little utility. The teachers 
were men ill qualified for the important duty 
which they had undertaken; and, after all, noth.-' 



120 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

ing- more could be obtained than the rudiments 
of a common English education. Franklin drew 
up a plan of an academy, to be erected in the 
city of Philadelphia, suited to "the state of an 
infant country;" but in this, as in all his plans, 
he confined not his views to the present time 
only. He looked forward to the period when an 
institution on an enlarged plan would become 
necessary. With this view, he considered his 
academy as "a foundation for posterity to erect 
a seminary of learning more extensive and suit- 
able to future circumstances." In pursuance of 
this plan, the constitutions were drawn up and 
signed on the 13th of November, 1749. In these, 
twenty-four of the most respectable citizens of 
Philadelphia were named as trustees. In the 
choice of these, and in the formation of his plan, 
Franklin is said to have consulted chiefly with 
Thomas Hopkinson, Esq. the Rev. Richard 
Peters, then secretary of the province, Tench 
Francis, Esq. attorney-general, and Dr. Phineas 
Bond. 

The following article shows a spirit of benevo- 
lence worthy of imitation ; and for the honor 
of our city, we hope that it continues to be in 
force. 

"In case of the disability of the Rector, or any- 
master (established on the foundation by receiv- 
ing a certain salary) through sickness, or any 
other natural infirmity, whereby he may be re- 
duced to poverty, the trustees shall have power 
to contribute to his support, in proportion to 
his distress and merit, and the stock in their 
hands." 

The last clause of the fundamental rule is ex- 
pressed in language so tender and benevolent, so 
truly parental, that it will do everlasting honor 
to the hearts and heads of the founders. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 121 

"It is hoped and expected that the trustees 
will make it their pleasure, and in some degree 
their business, to visit the academy often; to en- 
courage and countenance the youth, to counte- 
nance and assist the masters, and, by all means 
in their power, advance the usefulness and repu- 
tation of the design; that they will look on the 
students as, in some measure, their own chil- 
dren, treat them with familiarity and affection; 
and, when they have behaved well, gone through 
their studies, and are to enter the world, they 
shall zealously unite, and make all the interest 
that can be made to promote and establish them, 
whether in business, offices, marriages, or any 
other thing for their advantage, in preference 
to all other persons whatsoever, even of equal 
merit." 

The constitution being signed and made pub- 
lic, with the names of the gentlemen proposing 
themselves as trustees and founders, the design 
was so well approved of by the public-spirited 
citizens of Philadelphia, that the sum of eight 
hundred pounds per annum, for five years, was 
in the course of a few weeks subscribed for car- 
rying it into execution; and in the beginning of 
January following (viz. 1750) three of the schools 
were opened, namely, the Latin and Greek 
schools, the Mathematical school, and the Eng- 
lish school. In pursuance of an article in the 
original plan, a school for educating sixty boys 
and thirty girls (in the charter since called the 
Charitable School) was opened; and amidst all 
the difficulties with which the trustees have strug- 
gled in respect to their funds, has still been con- 
tinued full for the space of forty years; so that 
allowing three years education for each boy and 
girl admitted into it, which is the general rule, 
at least twelve hundred children have received 
11 F 



122 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

in it the chief part of their education, who might 
otherwise, in a great measure, have been left 
without the means of instruction. And many of 
those who have been thus educated, are now to 
be found among the most useful and reputable 
citizens of this state. 

This institution, thus successfully begun, con- 
tinued daily to flourish, to the great satisfaction 
of Dr. Franklin; who, notwithstanding the mul- 
tiplicity of his other engagements and pursuits, 
at that busy stage of his life, was a constant at- 
tendant at the monthly visitations and examina- 
tions of the schools, and made it his particular 
study, by means of his extensive correspondence 
abroad, to advance the reputation of the semin- 
ary, and to draw students and scholars to it from 
different parts of America and the West Indies. 
Through the interposition of his benevolent and 
learned friend, Peter Collinson, of London, upon 
the application of the trustees, a charter of in- 
corporation, dated July 13, 1753, was obtained 
from the honorable proprietors of Pennsylvania, 
Thomas Penn and Richard Penn, Esqrs. accom- 
panied with a liberal benefaction of five hundred 
pounds sterling; and Dr. Franklin now began in 
good earnest to please himself with the hopes of 
a speedy accomplishment of his original design, 
viz. the establishment of a perfect institution, 
upon the plan of the European colleges and uni- 
versities; for which his academy was intended as 
a nursery or foundation. To elucidate this fact, 
is a matter of considerable importance in respect 
to the memory and character of Dr. Franklin as 
a philosopher, and as the friend and patron of 
learning and science; for, notwithstanding what 
is expressly declared by him in the preamble 
to the constitutions, viz.' that the academy was 
begun for "teaching the Latin and Greek Ian- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 123 

guages, with all useful branches of the arts and 
sciences, suitable to the state of an infant 
country, and laying a foundation for posterity to 
erect a seminary of learning more extensive, 
and suitable to their future circumstances;" yet 
it has been suggested of late, as upon Dr. Frank- 
lin's authority, that the Latin and Greek, or the 
dead languages, are an incumbrance upon a 
scheme of liberal education, and that the en- 
grafting or founding a college, or more extensive 
seminary, upon his academy, was without his 
approbation or agency, and gave him discontent. 
If the reverse of this* does not already appear 
from what has been quoted above, the following 
letters will put the matter beyond dispute. They 
were written by him to a gentleman, who had at 
that time published the idea of a college, suited 
to the circumstances of a young country (mean- 
ing New Yorkj a copy of which having been sent 
to Dr. Franklin for his opinion, gave rise to that 
correspondence which terminated, about a year 
afterwards, in erecting the college upon the 
foundation of the academy, and establishing that 
gentleman at the head of both, where he still 
continues, after a period of thirty-six years, to 
preside with distinguished reputation. 

From these letters also, the state of the aca- 
demy, at that time, will be seen. 

"sir, "Philad. April 19, 1753. 

"I received your favor of the 11th instant, 
with your new * piece on Education, which I 
shall carefully peruse, and give you my senti- 
ments of it, as you desire, by next post. 

"I believe*the young gentlemen, your pupils, 
may be entertained and instructed here, in ma- 
thematics and philosophy, to satisfaction. Mr, 

* A general idea of the College of Mirania. 



194 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

Alisonf (who was educated at Glasgow) has been 
long accustomed to teach the latter, and Mr. 
GrewJ the former; and I think their pupils make 
great progress. Mr. Alison has the care of the 
Latin and Greek school, but as he has now three 
good assistants, § he can very well afford some 
hours every day for the instruction of those who 
are engaged in higher studies. The mathemati- 
cal school is pretty well furnished with instru- 
ments. The English library is a good one; and 
we have belonging to it a middling apparatus for 
experimental philosophy, and propose speedily 
to complete it. The Loganian library, one of 
the best collections in America, will shortly be 
opened; so that neither books nor instruments 
will be wanting; and as we are determined al- 
ways to give good salaries, we have reason to 
believe we may have always an opportunity of 
choosing good masters; upon which, indeed, the 
success of the whole depends. We are obliged 
to you for your kind offers in this respect, and 
when you are settled in England, we may occa- 
sionally make use of your friendship and judg- 
ment. 

"If it suits your convenience to visit Philadel- 
phia before you return to Europe, I shall be ex- 
tremely glad to see and converse with you here, 
as well as to correspond with you after your set- 
tlement in England; for an acquaintance and 
communication with men of learning, virtue, 
and public spirit, is one of my greatest enjoy- 
ments. 

"I do not know whether you ever happened to 

t The Rev. and learned Mr. Francis Alison,, afterwards D. D. 
and vice-provost of the college. 

X Mr. Theophilus Grew, afterwards professor of mathematics in 
the college. 

$ Those assistants were at that time, Mr. Charles Thomson, late 
secretary of Congress, Mr. Paul Jackson, and Mr. Jacob Duche. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 135 

see the first proposals 1 made for erecting this 
academy. I send them enclosed. They had (how- 
ever imperfect) the desired success, being follow- 
ed by a subscription of four thousand pounds, to- 
wards carrying" them into execution. And as we 
are fond of receiving advice, and are daily im- 
proving by experience, I am in hopes we shall, 
in a few years, seca perfect institution. 

"I am, very respectfully, &c. 

"B. FRANKLIN." 
"Mr. W. Smith, Long Island." , 



"Sir, "Philad. May 3, 1753. 

"Mr. Peters has just now been with me, and 
we have compared, notes on your new piece. 
We find, nothing in the scheme of education, 
however excellent, but what is in our opinion, 
very practicable. The great difficulty will be to 
find the Aratus, * and other suitable persons, to 
carry it into execution; but such may be had if 
proper encouragement be given. We have both 
received great pleasure in the perusal of it. For 
my part, I know not when I have read a piece 
that has more affected me — so noble and just are 
the sentiments, so warm and. animated the lan- 
guage; yet as censure from your friends may be 
of more use, as well as more agreeable to you 
than praise, I ought to mention, that I wish you 
had omitted not only the quotation from the Re- 
view, f which you are now justly dissatisfied 

* The name given to the principal or head of the ideal eollege, 
the system of education in which hath nevertheless been nearly 
realized, or followed as a model, in the college and academy of 
Philadelphia, and some other American seminaries, for marty 
years past. 

t The quotation alluded to (from the London Monthly Review 
for 1749,) was judged to reflect too severely on the discipline an* 1 
government of the English universities of Oxford and Cambridge, 
and was expunged from the following editions of this work. 
11* 



136 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

with, but those expressions of resentment against 
your adversaries, in pages 65 and 79. In such 
cases, the noblest victory is obtained by neglect, 
and by shining on. 

"Mr. Allen has been out of town these ten 
days; but before he went he directed me to pro- 
cure him six copies of your piece. Mr. Peters 
has taken ten. He proposed to have written to 
you; but omits it, as he expects so soon to have 
the pleasure of seeing you here. He desires me 
to present his affectionate compliments to you, 
and to assure you, that you will be very welcome 
to him. I shall only say, that you may depend 
on my doing all in my power to make your visit 
to Philadelphia agreeable to you. 
" I am, &c. 

«Mr. Smith. « B. FRANKLIN." 



"Philad. Nov. 27, 1753. 

"DEAR, SIR, 

" Having written you fully, via Bristol, I have 
now little to add. Matters relating to the aca- 
demy remain in statu quo. The trustees would 
be glad to see a rector established there, but 
they dread entering into new engagements till 
they are got out of debt; and I have not yet got 
them wholly over to my opinion, that a good pro- 
fessor, or teacher of the higher branches of learn- 
ing, would draw so many scholars as to pay great 
part, if not the whole of his salary. Thus, un- 
less the proprietors (of the province) shall think 
fit to put the finishing hand to our institution, it 
must, I fear, wait some few years longer before 
it can arrive at that state of perfection, which to 
me it seems now capable of; and all the pleasure 
I promised myself in seeing you settled among 
us, vanishes into smoke. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 127 

M But good Mr. Collinson writes me word, that 
no endeavors of his shall be wanting; and he 
hopes with the archbishop's assistance, to be 
able to prevail with our proprietors. * I pray 
God grant them success. 

"My son presents his affectionate regards, 
with, 

" Dear Sir, yours, &c. 
"B. FRANKLIN. 

"P. S. I have not been favored with a line 
from you since your arrival in England." 



"Philad. April 18, 1754. 
"dear sir, 

" I have had but one letter from you since 
your arrival in England, which was but a short 
one, via Boston, dated Oct. 13th, acquainting me 
that you had written largely by Captain Davis.— 
Davis was lost, and with him your. letters, to my 
great disappointment. — Mesnard and Gibbon 
have since arrived here, and I hear nothing from 
you. My comfort is, an imagination that you 
only omit writing because you are coming, and 
propose to tell me every thing viva voce. So not 
knowing whether this letter will reach you, and 
hoping either to see or hear from you by the 
Myrtilla, Captain Budden's ship, which is daily 
expected, I only add, that I am, with great es- 
teem and affection, 

"Yours, &c. 
" Mr. Smith. "B. FRANKLIN." 

*Upon the application of Archbishop Herring and P. Collinson, 
Esq. at Dr. Franklin's request (aided by the letters of Mr. Allen 
and Mr. Peters,) the Hon. Thomas Penn, Esq. subscribed an an- 
nual sum, and afterwards gave at least 5,000/. to the founding or 
engrafting the college upon the academy. 



129 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

About a month after the date of this last letter, 
the gentleman to whom it was addressed arrived 
in Philadelphia, and was immediately placed at 
the head of the seminary; whereby Dr. Frank- 
lin and the other trustees were enabled to prose- 
cute their plan, for perfecting 1 the institution, 
and opening the college upon the large and lib- 
eral foundation on which it now stands; for 
which purpose they obtained their additional 
charter, dated May 27th, 1755. 

Thus far we thought it proper to exhibit in one 
view Dr. Franklin's services in the foundation 
and establishment of this seminary. He soon 
afterwards embarked for England, in the public 
service of his country; and having been general- 
ly employed abroad, in the like service, for the 
greatest part of the remainder of his life (as will 
appear in our subsequent account of the same) he 
had but few opportunities of taking any further 
active part in the affairs of the seminary, until 
his final return in the year 1785, when he found 
its charters violated, and his ancient colleagues, 
the original founders, deprived of their trust, by 
an act of the legislature; and although his own 
name had been inserted amongst the new trus- 
tees, yet he declined to take his seat among 
them, or any concern in the management of their 
affairs, till the institution was restored by law to 
its original owners. He then assembled his old 
colleagues at his own house, and being chosen 
their president, all their future meetings were, 
at his request, held there, till within a few months 
of his death, when with reluctance, and at their 
desire, lest he might be too much injured by his 
attention to their business, he suffered them to 
meet at the college. 

Franklin not only gave birth to many useful in- 
stitutions himself, but he was also instrumental 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 129 

in promoting those "which had originated with 
other men. About the year 1752, an eminent 
physician of this city, Dr. Bond, considering the 
deplorable state of the poor, when visited with 
disease, conceived the idea of establishing an 
hospital. Notwithstanding very great exertions 
on his part, he was able to interest few people 
so far in his benevolent plan, as to obtain sub- 
scriptions from them. Unwilling thai his scheme 
should prove abortive, he sought the aid of Frank- 
lin, who readily engaged in the business, both by 
using his influence with his friends, and by stat- 
ing the advantageous influence of the proposed 
institution in his paper. These efforts were at- 
tended with success. Considerable sums were 
subscribed; but they were still short of what was 
necessary. Franklin now made another exer- 
tion. He applied to the Assembly; and, after 
some opposition, obtained leave to bring in a 
bill specifying, that as soon as two thousand 
pounds were subscribed, the same sum should be 
drawn from the treasury by the speaker's war- 
rant, to be applied to the purposes of the insti- 
tution. The opposition, as the sum was granted 
upon a contingency, which they supposed would 
never take place, were silent, and the bill pass- 
ed* The friends of the plan now redoubled their 
efforts, to obtain subscriptions to the amount 
stated in the bill, and were soon successful. 
This was the foundation of the Pennsylvanian 
Hospital, which, with the Bettering-House and 
Dispensary, bears ample testimony of the hu- 
manity of the citizens of Philadelphia. 

Dr. Franklin had conducted himself so well 
in the office of postmaster, and had shown him- 
self to be so well acquainted with the business of 
that department, that it was thought expedient 
to raise him to a more dignified station. In 1753 
F2 



130 LTFE OF FRANKLIN. 

he was appointed deputy post-master general for 
the British colonies. The profits arising from 
the postage of letters formed no inconsiderable 
part of the revenue, which the crown of Great 
Britain derived from these colonies. In the 
hands of Franklin, it is said, that the post-office 
in America yielded annually thrice as much as 
that of Ireland. 

The American colonies were much exposed to 
depredations on their frontiers by the Indians; 
and, more particularly, whenever a war took 
place between France and England. The colo- 
nies, individually, were either too weak to take 
efficient measures for their own defence, or they 
were unwilling to take upon themselves the 
whole burden of erecting forts and maintaining 
garrisons, whilst their neighbors, who partook 
equally with themselves of the advantages, con- 
tributed nothing to the expense. Sometimes also 
the disputes, which subsisted between the gover- 
nors and assemblies, prevented the adoption of 
means of defence; as we have seen was the case 
in Pennsylvania in 1745. To devise a plan of 
union between the colonies, to regulate this and 
other matters, appeared a desirable object. To 
accomplish this, in the year 1754, commissioners 
from New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Is- 
land, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland 
met at Albany. Dr. Franklin attended here, as 
a commissioner from Pennsylvania, and produ- 
ced a plan, which, from the place of meeting, has 
been usually termed, "The Albany Plan of 
Union." This proposed, that application should 
be made for an act of parliament, to establish 
in the colonies a general government, to be ad- 
ministered by a president-general, appointed by 
the crown, and by a grand council, consisting 
of members, chosen by the representatives of 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 131 

the different colonies; their number to be indirect 
proportion to the sums paid by each colony into 
the general treasury, with this restriction, that 
no colony should have more than seven, nor less 
than two representatives. The whole executive 
authority was committed to the president-gene- 
ral. The power of legislation was lodged in the 
grand council and president-general jointly; his 
consent being made necessary to passing a bill 
into a law. The power vested in the president 
and council was, to declare war and peace, and 
to conclude treaties with the Indian nations; to 
regulate trade with, and to make purchases of 
vacant lands from them, either in the name of 
the crown, or of the union; to settle new colo- 
nies, to make laws for governing these, until 
they should be erected into separate govern- 
ments; and to raise troops, build forts, and fit 
out armed vessels, and to use other means for 
the general defence; and, to effect these things, 
a power was given to make laws, laying such 
duties, imposts, or taxes, as they should find ne- 
cessary, and as would be least burdensome to the 
people. All laws were to be sent to England for 
the king's approbation; and, unless disapproved 
of within three years, were to remain in force. 
All officers of the land or sea service were to be 
nominated by the president-general, and approv- 
ed of by the general council; civil officers were 
to be nominated by the council, and approved of 
by the president. Such are the outlines of the 
plan proposed, for the consideration of the con- 
gress, by Dr. Franklin. After several days 
discussion, it was unanimously agreed to by 
the commissioners, a copy transmitted to each 
assembly, and one to the king's council. The 
fate of it was singular. It was disapproved of 
by the ministry of Great Britain, because it 



132 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

gave too much power to the representatives of 
the people; and it was rejected by every as- 
sembly, as giving to the president-general, the 
representative of the crown, an influence great- 
er than appeared to them proper, in a plan 
of government intended for freemen. Perhaps 
this rejection, on both sides, is the strongest 
proof that could be adduced of the excellence of 
it, as suited to the situation of America and 
Great Britain at that time. It appears to have 
steered exactly in the middle, between the oppo- 
site interests of both. 

Whether the adoption of this plan would have 
prevented the separation of America from Great 
Britain is a question which might afford much 
room for speculation. It may be said, that, by 
enabling the colonies to defend themselves, it 
would have removed the pretext upon which the 
stamp act, tea act, and other acts of the British 
parliament were passed; which excited a spirit 
of opposition, and laid the foundation for the 
separation of the two countries. But, on the 
other hand, it must be admitted, that the restric- 
tion laid by Great Britain upon our commerce, 
obliging us to sell our produce to her citizens 
only, and to take from them various articles, of 
which, as our manufacturers were discouraged, 
we stood in need, at a price greater than that 
for which they could have been obtained from 
other nations, mu3t inevitably produce dissatis- 
faction, even though no duties were imposed by 
the parliament; a circumstance which might 
still have taken place. Besides,as the president- 
general was to be appointed by the crown, he 
must, of necessity, be, devoted to its views, and 
would, therefore, refuse to assent to any laws, 
however salutary to the community, which had 
the most remote tendency to injure the interests 



LIFE OF FRANKLIJV. 133 

of his sovereign. Even should they receive his 
assent, the approbation of the king was to be 
necessary; who would indubitably, in every in- 
stance, prefer the advantage of his own domin- 
ions to that of his colonies. Hence would ensue 
perpetual disagreements between the council 
and the president-general, and thus between the 
people of America and the crown of Great Bri- 
tain: — while the colonies continued weak, they 
would be obliged to submit, and as soon as they 
acquired strength, they would become more ur- 
gent in their demands, until, at length, they 
would shake off the yoke, and declare them- 
selves independent. 

Whilst the French were in possession of 
Canada, their trade with the natives extended 
very far; even to the back of the British settle- 
ments. They were disposed, from time to time, 
to establish posts within the territory which the 
English claimed as their own. Independent of 
the injury to the fur trade, which was consider- 
able, the colonies suffered this further inconve- 
nience, that the Indians were frequently instiga- 
ted to commit depredations on their frontiers. In 
the year 1753, encroachments were made upon 
the boundaries of Virginia. Remonstrances had 
no effect. In the ensuing year, a body of men 
was sent out under the command of Mr. Wash- 
ington, who, though a very young man, had, by 
his conduct in the preceding year, shown him- 
self worthy of such an important trust. Whilst 
marching to take possession of the post at the 
junction of the Alleghany and Monongahela, he 
was informed that the French had already erect* 
ed a fort there. A detachment of their men 
marched against him. He fortified himself as 
strongly as time and circumstances would admit. 
A superiority of numbers soon obliged him to 
12 



134 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

surrender Fort Necessity. He obtained honorable 
terms for himself and men, and returned to Vir- 
ginia. The government of Great Britain now 
thought it necessary to interfere. In the yeaF 
1755, General Braddock, with some regiments 
of regular troops and provincial levies, was sent 
to dispossess the French of the posts upon which 
they had seized. After the men were all ready, 
a difficulty occurred, which had nearly prevent- 
ed the expedition. This was the want of wag- 
ons. Franklin now stepped forward, and with 
the assistance of his son, in a little time procured 
a hundred and fifty. Braddock unfortunately fell 
into an ambuscade, and perished, with a number 
of his men. Washington, who had accompanied 
him as an aid-de-camp, and had warned him, in 
vain, of his danger, now displayed great military 
talents in effecting a retreat of the remains of 
the army, and in forming a junction with the 
rear, under Colonel Dunbar, upon whom the 
chief command now devolved. With some diffi- 
culty they brought their little body to a place of 
safety, but they found it necessary to destroy 
their wagons and baggage, to prevent them 
from falling into the hands of the enemy. For 
the wagons, which he had furnished, Franklin 
had given bonds to a large amount. The owners 
declared their intention of obliging him to make 
a restitution of their property. Had they put 
their threats in execution, ruin must inevitably 
have been the consequence. Governor Shirley, 
finding that he had incurred those debts for the 
service of government, made arrangements to 
have them discharged, and released Franklin 
from his disagreeable situation. 

The alarm spread through the colonies, after 
the defeat of Braddock, was very great. Prepar- 
ations to arm were everywhere made. In Penn- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 135 

sylvania, the prevalence of the quaker interest 
prevented the adoption of any system of.defence, 
which would compel the citizens to bear arms. 
Franklin introduced into the Assembly a bill for 
organizing a militia, by which every man was 
allowed to take arms or not, as to him should ap- 
pear fit. The Quakers, being thus left at liberty, 
suffered the bill to pass; for, although their prin- 
ciples would not suffer them to fight, they had no 
objection to their neighbors fighting for them. 
In consequence of this act a very respectable 
militia was formed. The sense of impending 
danger infused a military spirit in all, whose re- 
ligious tenets were not opposed to war. Franklin 
was appointed colonel of a regiment in Philadel- 
phia, which consisted of 1200 men. 

The northwestern frontier being invaded by 
the enemy, it became necessary to adopt mea- 
sures for its defence. Franklin was directed by 
the Governor to take charge of this. A power 
of raising men, and of ^appointing officers to 
command them, was vested in him. He soon 
levied a body of troops, with which he repaired 
to the place at which their presence was neces- 
sary. Here he built a fort, and placed the gar- 
rison in such a posture of defence, as would en- 
able them to withstand the inroads, to which the 
inhabitants had been previously exposed. He re- 
mained here for some time, in order the more 
completely to discharge the trust committed to 
him. Some business of' importance at length 
rendered his presence necessary in the Assem- 
bly, and he returned to Philadelphia. 

The defence of her colonies was a great ex- 
pense to Great Britain. The most effectual 
mode of lessening this was, to put arms into the 
hands of the inhabitants, and to teach them 
their use. But England wished not that the 



136 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

Americans should become acquainted with their 
own strength. She was apprehensive, that, as 
soon as this period arrived, they would no longer 
submit to that monopoly of their trade, which to 
them was highly injurious, but extremely advan- 
tageous to the mother country. In comparison 
with the profits of this, the expense of maintain- 
ing armies and fleets to defend them was trifling. 
She fought to keep them dependent upon her for 
protection; the best plan which could be devised 
for retaining them in peaceable subjection. The 
least appearance of a military spirit was .there- 
fore to be guarded against; and, although a war 
then raged, the act of organizing a militia was 
disapproved of by the ministry. The regiments 
which had been formed under it were disbanded, 
and the defence of the province was entrusted to 
regular troops. 

The disputes between the Proprietaries and 
the people continued in full force, although a 
war was raging on the frontiers. Not even the 
sense of danger was sufficient to reconcile, for 
ever so short a time, their jarring interests. The 
Assembly still insisted upon the justice of taxing 
the proprietary estates, but the Governors con- 
stantly refused their assent to this measure, 
without which no bill could pass into a law. En- 
raged at the obstinacy, and what they conceived 
to be unjust proceedings of their opponents, the 
Assembly at length determined to apply to the 
mother country for relief. A petition was ad- 
dressed to the king, in council, stating the in- 
conveniences under which the inhabitants labor- 
ed, from the attention of the Proprietaries to 
their private interests, to the neglect of the 
general welfare of the community, and praying 
for redress. Franklin was appointed to present 
this address, as agent for the province of Penn- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 137 

sylvania, and departed from America in June, 
1757. In conformity to the instructions which 
he had received from the legislature, he held a 
conference with the Proprietaries who then 
resided in England, and endeavored to prevail 
upon them to give up the long-contested point. 
Finding that they would hearken to no terms of 
accommodation, he laid his petition before the 
council. During this time Governor Denny as- 
sented to a law imposing a tax, in which no dis- 
crimination was made in favor of the estates of 
the Penu family. They, alarmed at this intelli- 
gence, and Franklin's exertions, used their ut- 
most endeavors to prevent the royal sanction be- 
ing given to this law, which they represented as 
highly iniquitous, designed to throw the burden 
of supporting government upon them, and calcu- 
lated to produce the most ruinous consequences 
to them and their posterity. The cause was am- 
ply discussed before the Privy Council. The 
Penns found here some strenuous advocates ; 
nor were there wanting some who warmly es- 
poused the side of the people. After some time 
spent in debate, a proposal was made, that 
Franklin should solemnly engage, that the as- 
sessment of the tax should be so made, as ,that 
the proprietary estates should pay no more than 
a due proportion. This he agreed to perform, 
the Penn family withdrew their opposition, and 
tranquillity was thus once more restored to the 
province. 

The mode in which this dispute was terminat- 
ed is a striking proof of the high opinion enter- 
tained of Franklin's integrity and honor, even 
by those who considered him inimical to their 
views. Nor was their confidence ill founded 
The assessment was made upon the strictest 
principle of equity; and the proprietary estates 
12* 



138 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

bore only a proportionable share of the expenses 
of supporting government. 

After the completion of this important bu- 
siness, Franklin remained at the Court of Great 
Britain, as agent for the province of Pennsyl- 
vania. The extensive knowledge which he pos- 
sessed of the situation of the colonies, and the 
regard which he always manifested for their in- 
terests, occasioned his appointment to the same 
office by the colonies of Massachusetts, Mary- 
land, and Georgia. His conduct, in this situa- 
tion, was such as rendered him still more dear to 
his countrymen. 

He had now an opportunity of indulging in the 
society of those friends, whom his merits had 
procured him while at a distance. The regard 
which they had entertained for him was rather 
increased by a personal acquaintance. The op- 
position which had been made to his discoveries 
in philosophy gradually ceased, and the rewards 
of literary merit were abundantly conferred upon 
him. The Royal Society of London, which had 
at first refused his performances admission into 
its transactions, now thought it an honor to rank 
him amongst its fellows. Other societies of Eu- 
rope were equally ambitious of calling him a 
member. The University of St. Andrew's, in 
Scotland, conferred upon him the degree of Doc- 
tor of Laws. Its example was followed by the 
Universities of Edinburgh and Oxford. His cor- 
respondence was sought for by the most eminent 
philosophers of Europe. His letters to these 
abound with true science, delivered in the most 
simple unadorned manner. 

The province of Canada was at this time in 
the possession of the French, who had originally 
settled it. The trade with the Indians, for which 
its situation was very convenient, was exceeding- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 139 

ly lucrative. The French traders here found a 
market for their commodities, and received in 
return large quantities of rich furs, which they 
disposed of at a high price in Europe. Whilst 
the possession of this country was highly advan- 
tageous to France, it was a grievous inconveni- 
ence to the inhabitants of the British colonies. 
The Indians were almost generally desirous to 
cultivate the friendship of the French, by whom 
they were abundantly supplied with arms and 
ammunition. Whenever a war happened, the 
Indians were ready to fall upon the frontiers; and 
this they frequently did, even when Great Bri- 
tain and France were at peace. From these 
considerations, it appeared to be the interest of 
Great Britain to gain the possession of Canada. 
But the importance of such an acquisition was 
not well understood in England. Franklin about 
this time published his Canada pamphlet, in 
which he, in a very forcible manner, pointed out 
the advantages which would result from the con- 
quest of this province. 

An expedition against it was planned, and the 
command given to General Wolfe. His success 
is well known. At the treaty in 1762, France 
ceded Canada to Great Britain, and by her ces- 
sion of Louisiana at the same time, relinquished 
all her possessions on Ihe continent of America. 

Although Dr. Franklin was now principally 
occupied with political pursuits, he found time 
for philosophical studies. He extended his elec- 
trical researches, and made a variety of experi- 
ments, particularly on the tourmalin. The sin- 
gular properties which this stone possesses, of 
being electrified on one side positively, and on 
the other negatively, by heat alone, without 
friction, had been but lately observed. 

Some experiments on the cold produced by 



140 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

evaporation, made by Dr. Cullen, had been com- 
municated to Dr. Franklin, by Professor Simp- 
son, of Glasgow. These he repeated, and found, 
that, by the evaporation of ether in the exhaust- 
ed receiver of an air-pump, so great a degree of 
cold was produced in a summer's day, that water 
was converted into ice. This discovery he ap- 
plied to the solution of a number of phenomena, 
particularly a singular fact, which philosophers 
had endeavored in vain to account for, viz. that 
the temperature of the human body, when in 
health, never exceeds ninety-six degrees of 
Farenheit's thermometer, although the atmos- 
phere which surrounds it may be heated to a 
much greater degree. This he attributed to the 
increased perspiration, and consequent evapora- 
tion, produced by the heat. 

In a letter to Mr. Small, of London, dated in 
May, 1760, Dr. Franklin makes a number of ob- 
servations, tending to show that, in North Ame- 
rica, northeast storms, begin in the southwest 
parts. It appears, from actual observations, 
that a northeast storm, which extended a con- 
siderable distance, commenced at Philadelphia 
nearly four hours before it was felt at Boston. 
He endeavored to account for this, by supposing 
that, from heat, some rarefaction takes place 
about the Gulph of Mexico, that the air further 
north being cooler rushes in, and is succeeded 
by the cooler and denser air still farther north, 
and that thus a continued current is at length 
produced. 

The tone produced by rubbing the brim of a 
drinking glass with a wet finger had been gener- 
ally known. A Mr. Puckeridge, an Irishman, 
by placing on a table a number of glasses of dif- 
ferent sizes, and tuning them by partly filling 
them with water, endeavored to form an instru-? 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 141 

rnent capable of playing tunes. He was prevent- 
ed, by an untimely end, from bringing his inven- 
tion to any degree of perfection. After his death 
some improvements were made upon his plan. 
The sweetness of the tones induced Dr. Frank- 
lin to make a variety of experiments; and he at 
length formed that elegant instrument, which he 
has called the Armonica. 

In the summer of 1762, he returned to Ame- 
rica. On his passage he observed the singular 
effect produced by the agitation of a vessel, con- 
taining oil floating on water. The surface of the 
oil remains smooth and undisturbed, whilst the 
water is agitated with the utmost commotion.; — 
No satisfactory explanation of this appearance 
has, we believe, ever been given. 

Dr. Franklin received the thanks of the As- 
sembly of Pennsylvania, "as well for the faithful 
discharge of his duty to that province in particu- 
lar, as for the many and important services done 
to America in general, during his residence in 
Great Britain." A compensation of 5,000/. 
Pennsylvania currency, was also decreed him 
for his services during six years. 

During his absence he had been annually 
elected member of the Assembly. On his return 
to Pennsylvania he again took his seat in this 
body, and continued a steady defender of the lib- 
erties of the people. 

In December, 1762, a circumstance which 
caused great alarm in the province took place. 
A number of Indians had resided in the county 
of Lancaster, and conducted themselves uniform- 
ly as friends to the white inhabitants. Repeated 
depredations on the frontiers had exasperated 
the inhabitants to such a degree, that they deter- 
mined on revenge upon every Indian. A number 
of persons, to the amount of about one hundred 



142 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

and twenty, principally inhabitants of Donegal 
and Peckstang or Paxton townships, in the coun- 
ty of York, assembled; and, mounted on horse- 
back, proceeded to the settlement of these harm- 
less and defenceless Indians, whose number had 
now been reduced to ahout twenty. The Indians 
received intelligence of the attack which was 

9 

intended against them, but disbelieved it. Con- 
sidering the white people as their friends, they 
apprehended no danger from them. When the 
party arrived at the Indian settlement, they 
found only some women and children, and a few 
old men, the rest being absent at work. They 
murdered all whom they found, and amongst 
others the chief >Shaheas, who had been always 
distinguished for his friendship to the whites. 
This bloody deed excited mucn indignation in 
the well-disposed part of the community. 

The remainder of these unfortunate Indians, 
who, by absence, had escaped the massacre, 
were conducted to Lancaster, and lodged in the 
jail as a place of security. The Governor issued 
a Proclamation, expressing the strongest disap- 
probation of the act, offering a reward for the 
discovery of the perpetrators of the deed, and 
prohibiting all injuries to the peaceable Indians 
in future. But, notwithstanding this, a party of 
the same men shortly after marched to Lancaster, 
broke open the jail, and inhumanly butchered 
the innocent Indians who had been placed there 
for security. Another Proclamation was issued, 
but it had no effect. A detachment marched 
down to Philadelphia, for the express purpose of 
murdering some friendly Indians, who had been 
removed to the city for safety. A number of the 
citizens armed in their defence. The duakers, 
whose principles are opposed to fighting even in 
their own defence, were most active upon this 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 143 

occasion. The rioters came to Germantown. 
The Governor fled for safety to the house of Dr. 
Franklin, who, with some others, advanced to 
meet the Paxton boys, as they were called, and 
had influence enough to prevail upon them to re- 
linquish their undertaking, and return to their 
homes. 

The disputes between the Proprietaries and 
the Assembly, which, for a time had subsided, 
were again revived. The Proprietaries were dis- 
satisfied with the concessions made in favor of 
the people, and made great struggles to recover 
the privilege of exempting their estates from 
taxation, which they had been induced to give 

In 1763, the Assembly passed a militia bill, to 
which the Governor refused to give his assent, 
unless the Assembly would agree to certain 
amendments which he proposed. These consisted 
in increasing the fines; and, in some cases, sub- 
stituting death for fines. He wished too, that the 
officers should be appointed altogether by himself, 
and not be nominated by the people, as the bill 
had proposed. These amendments the Assembly 
considered as inconsistent with the spirit of lib- 
erty. They would not adopt them; the Governor 
was obstinate, and the bill was lost. 

These, and various other circumstances, in- 
creased the uneasiness which subsisted between 
the Proprietaries and the Assembly, to such a 
degree that, in 1764 a petition to the king was 
agreed to by the house, praying an alteration 
from a proprietary to a regal government. Great 
opposition was made to this measure, not only in 
the house, but in the public prints. A speech of 
Mr. Dickenson, on the subject, was published, 
with a preface by Dr. Smith, in which great 
pains were taken to show the impropriety and 



144 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

impolicy of this proceeding. A speech of Mr. 
Galloway, in reply to Mr. Dickenson, was pub- 
lished, accompanied with a preface by Dr. 
Franklin; in which he ably opposed the principles 
laid down in the preface to Mr. Dickenson's 
speech. This application to the throne produced 
no effect. The proprietary government was still 
continued. 

At the election for a new Assembly, in the fall 
of 1764, the friends of the Proprietaries made 
great exertions to exclude those of the adverse 
party; and they obtained a small majority in the 
city of Philadelphia. Franklin now lost his seat 
in the house, which he had held for fourteen 
years. On the meeting of the Assembly, it, ap- 
peared that therevwas still a decided majority of 
Franklin's friends. He was immediately appoint- 
ed provincial agent, to the great chagrin of his 
enemies, who made a solemn protest against his 
appointment; which was refused admission upon 
the minutes, as being unprecedented. It was, 
however, published in the papers, and produced 
a spirited reply from him, just before his depar- 
ture for England. 

The disturbances produced in America by Mr. 
Grenville's stamp act, and the opposition made 
to it, are well known. Under the Marquis of 
Rockingham's administration, it appeared expe- 
dient to endeavor to calm the minds of the colo- 
nists; and the repeal of the odious tax was con- 
templated. Amongst other means of collecting 
information on the disposition of the people to 
submit to it, Dr. Franklin was called to the bar 
of the House of Commons. The examination 
which he here underwent was published, and con- 
tains a striking proof of the extent and accuracy 
of his information, and the facility with which he 
communicated his sentiments. He represented 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 145 

facts in so strong a point of view, that the inex- 
pediency of the act must have appeared clear to 
every unprejudiced mind. The act, after some 
opposition, was repealed, about a year after it 
was enacted, and before it had ever been carried 
into execution. 

In the year 1766, he made a visit to Holland 
and Germany, and received the greatest marks 
of attention from men of science. In his pas- 
sage through Holland, he learned from the water- 
men the effect which a diminution of the quanti- 
ty of water in canals has, in impeding the pro- 
gress of boats. Upon his return to England, he 
was led to make a number of experiments, all of 
which tended to confirm the observation. These, 
with an explanation of the phenomenon, he 
communicated in a letter to his friend, Sir 
John Pringle, which is among his philosophical 
pieces. 

In the following year he travelled into France, 
where he met with a no less favorable reception 
than he had experienced in Germany. He was 
introduced to a number of literary characters, 
and to the King, Louis XV. 

Several letters written by Hutchinson, Oliver, 
and others, to persons in eminent stations in 
Great Britain, came into the hands of Dr. 
Franklin. These contained the most violent in- 
vectives against the leading characters of the 
state of Massachusetts, and strenuously advised 
the prosecution of vigorous measures, to compel 
the people to obedience to the measures of the 
ministry. These he transmitted to the legisla- 
ture, by whom they were published. Attested 
copies of them were sent to Great Britain, with 
an address, praying the King to discharge from 
office persons who had rendered themselves so 
obnoxious to the people, and who had shown 
13 G 



146 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

themselves so unfriendly to their interests. The 
publication of these letters produced a duel be- 
tween Mr. Whately and Mr. Temple; each of 
whom was suspected of having been instrumental 
in procuring them. To prevent any further dis- 
putes on this subject, Dr. Franklin, in one of 
the public papers, declared that he had sent 
them to America, but would give no information 
concerning the manner in which he had obtain- 
ed them; nor was this ever discovered. 

Shortly after, the petition of the Massachu- 
setts Assembly was taken up for examination, be- 
fore the Privy Council. Dr. Franklin attended 
as agent for the Assembly; and here a torrent of 
the most violent and unwarranted abuse was 
poured upon him by the solicitor general, W«d- 
derburne, who was engaged as counsel for Oliver 
and Hutchinson. The petition was declared to be 
scandalous and vexatious; and the prayer of it 
refused. 

Although the parliament of Great Britain had 
repealed the stamp act, it was only upon the 
principle of expediency. They still insisted upon 
their right to tax the colonies; and, at the same 
time that the stamp act was repealed, an act was 
passed, declaring the right of parliament to bind 
the colonies in all cases whatsoever. This lan- 
guage was used even by the most strenuous op- 
posers of the stamp act: and, amongst others, by 
Mr. Pitt. This right was never recognized by 
the colonists; but, as they flattered themselves 
that it would not be exercised, they were not 
very active in remonstrating against it. Had 
this pretended right been suffered to remain dor- 
mant, the colonists would cheerfully have fur- 
nished their quota of supplies, in the mode to 
which they had been accustomed; that is r by 
acts of their own assemblies, in consequence of 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 147 

requisitions from the Secretary of State. If this 
practice had been pursued, such was the disposi- 
tion of the colonies towards their mother coun- 
try, that, notwithstanding the disadvantages un- 
der which they labored, from restraints upon 
their trade, calculated solely for the benefit of 
the commercial and manufacturing interests of 
Great Britain, a separation of the two countries 
might have been a far distant event. The Ame- 
ricans, from their earliest infancy, were taught 
to venerate a people from wbom they were de- 
scended; whose language, laws, and manners 
were the same as their own. They looked up to 
them as models of perfection; and, in their pre- 
judiced minds, the most enlightened nations of 
Europe were considered as almost barbarians, 
in comparison with Englishmen,. The name of 
an Englishman conveyed to an American the 
idea of every thing good and great. Such sen- 
timents instilled into them in early life, what but 
a repetition of unjust treatment could have in- 
duced them to entertain the most distant thought 
of separation! The duties on glass, paper, lea- 
ther, painters' colors, tea, &c. the disfranchise- 
ment of some of the colonies; the obstruction to 
the measures of the legislature in others, by the 
King's Governors; the contemptuous treatment 
of their humble remonstrances, stating their 
grievances, and praying a redress of them, and 
other violent and oppressive measures, at length 
excited an ardent spirit of opposition. Instead 
of endeavoring to allay this by a more lenient 
conduct, the ministry seemed resolutely bent 
upon reducing the colonies to the most slavish 
obedience to their decrees. But this only tend- 
ed to aggravate. Vain were all the efforts made 
use of to prevail upon them to lay aside their de- 
signs, to convince them of the impossibility of 



14S LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

carrying them into effect, and of the mischievous 
consequences which must ensue from a continu- 
ance of the attempt. They persevered with a 
degree of inflexibility scarcely paralleled. 

The advantages which Great Britain derived 
from her colonies were so great, that nothing 
but a degree of infatuation, little short of mad- 
ness, could have produced a continuance of mea- 
sures calculated to keep up a spirit of uneasiness, 
which might occasion the slightest wish for a 
separation. When we consider the great im- 
provements in the science of government, the 
general diffusion of the principles of liberty 
amongst the people of Europe, the effects which 
these have already produced in France, and the 
probable consequences which will result from 
them elsewhere, all of which are the offspring of 
the American revolution, it cannot but appear 
strange, that events of so great moment to the 
happiness of mankind, should have been ulti- 
mately occasioned by the wickedness or ignor- 
ance of a British ministry. 

Dr. Franklin left nothing untried to prevail 
upon the ministry to consent to a change of mea- 
sures. In private conversations, and in letters 
to persons in government, he continually expa- 
tiated upon the impolicy and injustice of their 
conduct towards America; and stated, that, not- 
withstanding the attachment of the colonists to 
the mother country, a repetition of ill treatment 
must ultimately alienate their affections. They 
listened not to his advice. They blindly perse- 
vered in their own schemes, and left to the colo- 
nists no alternative, but opposition, or uncondi- 
tional submission. The latter accorded not with 
the principles of freedom which they had been 
taught to revere. To the former they were 
compelled, though reluctantly, to have recourse. 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 149 

Dr. Franklin, finding all efforts to restore har- 
mony between Great Britain and her colonies 
useless, returned to America in the year 1775; 
just after the commencement of hostilities. The 
day after his return he was elected by the legisla- 
ture of Pennsylvania a delegate to Congress. Not 
long after his election a committee was appoint- 
ed, consisting of Mr. Lynch, Mr. Harrison, and 
himself, to visit the camp at Cambridge, and, in 
conjunction with the commander in chief, to en- 
deavor to convince the troops, whose term of en- 
listment was about to expire, of the necessity of 
their continuing in the field, and persevering in 
the cause of their country. 

In the fall of the same year he visited Canada, 
to endeavor to unite them in the common cause 
of liberty; but they could not be prevailed upon 
to oppose the measures of the British Govern- 
ment. M. le Roy, in a letter annexed to Abbe 
Fauchet's eulogium of Dr. Franklin, states, that 
the ill success of this negotiation was occasion- 
ed, in a great degree, by religious animosities, 
which subsisted between the Canadians and their 
neighbors, some of whom had, at diiferent times, 
burnt their chapels. 

When Lord Howe came to America, in 1776, 
vested with power to treat with the colonists, a 
correspondence took place between him and Dr. 
Franklin on the subject of a reconciliation. Dr. 
Franklin was afterwards appointed together with 
John Adams and Edward Rutledge, to wait upon 
the commissioners, in order to learn the extent 
of their powers. These were found to be only 
to grant pardons upon submission. These were 
terms which would not be accepted; and the 
object of the commissioners could not be ob- 
tained. 

The momentous question of independence was 
13* 



150 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

shortly after brought into view, at a time when 
the fleets and armies, which were sent to enforce 
obedience, were truly formidable. With an ar- 
my, numerous indeed, but ignorant of discipline, 
and entirely unskilled in the art of war, without 
money, without a fleet, without allies, and with 
nothing but the love of liberty to support them, 
the colonists determined to separate from a 
country, from which they had experienced a re- 
petition of injury and insult. In this question, 
Dr. Franklin was decidedly in favor of the mea- 
sure proposed, and had great influence in bring- 
ing others over to his sentiments. 

The public mind had been already prepared 
for this event, by Mr. Paine's celebrated pam- 
phlet, Common Sense. There is good reason to 
believe that Dr. Franklin had no inconsiderable 
share,, at least, in furnishing materials for this 
work. 

In the Convention which assembled at Phila- 
delphia in 1776, for the purpose of establishing 
anew form of government for the state of Penn- 
sylvania, Dr. Franklin was chosen president. 
The late constitution of this state, which was 
the result of their deliberations, may be consid- 
ered as a digest of his principles of government. 
The single legislature, and the plural execu- 
tive, seem to have been his favorite tenets. 

In the latter end of 1776, Dr. Franklin was 
appointed to assist at the negotiation which had 
been set on foot by Silas Deane, at the court of 
France. A conviction of the advantages of a 
commercial intercourse with America, and a de- 
sire of weakening the British empire by dismem- 
bering it, first induced the French Court to listen 
to proposals of an alliance. But they showed 
rather a reluctance to the measure, which by 
Dr. Franklin's address, and particularly by the 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 151 

success of the American arms against General 
Burgoyne, was at length overcome; and in Fe- 
bruary, 1778, a treaty of alliance, offensive 
and defensive, was concluded; in consequence 
of which France became involved in the war 
with Great Britain. 

Perhaps no person could have been found more 
capable of rendering essential services to the 
United States at the court of # France than Dr. 
Franklin. He was well known as a philosopher, 
and his character was held in the highest estima- 
tion. He was received with the greatest marks 
of respect by all the literary characters; and this 
respect was extended amongst all classes of men. 
His personal influence was hence very consider- 
able. To the effects of this were added those of 
various performances which he published, tend- 
ing to establish the credit and character of the 
United States. To his exertions in this way may, 
in no small degree, be ascribed the success of 
the loans negotiated in Holland and France, 
which greatly contributed to bringing the war to 
a happy conclusion. 

The repeated ill success of their arms, and 
more particularly the capture of Cornwallis and 
his army, at length convinced the British nation 
of the impossibility of reducing the Americans 
to subjection. The trading interest particular- 
ly became clamorous for peace. The ministry 
were unable longer to oppose their wishes. Pro- 
visional articles of peace were agreed to, and 
signed at Paris, on the 30th of November, 1782, 
by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, and Mr. 
Laurens, on the part of the United States; and 
by Mr. Oswald on the part of Great Britain. 
These formed the basis of the definitive treaty, 
which was concluded the 3d of September, 1783, 
and signed by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, and 



152 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

Mr. Jay, on the one part, and by Mr. David 
Hartly on the other. 

On the 3d of April, 1783, a treaty of amity 
and commerce, between the United States and 
Sweden, was concluded at Paris by Dr. Frank- 
lin and the Count Von Krutz. 

A similar treaty with Prussia was concluded 
in 1785, not long hefore Dr. Franklin's depar- 
ture from Europe. 

Dr. Franklin did not suffer his political pur- 
suits to engross his whole attention. Some of his 
performances made their appearance in Paris. 
The object of these was generally the promotion 
of industry and economy. 

In the year 1784, when animal magnetism 
made great noise in the world, particularly at 
Paris, it was thought a matter of such impor- 
tance that the King appointed commissioners to 
examine into the foundation of this pretended 
science. Dr. Franklin was one of the number. 
After a fair and diligent examination, in the 
course of which Mesmer repeated a number of 
experiments, in the presence of the commission- 
ers, some of which were tried upon themselves, 
they determined that it was a mere trick, in- 
tended to impose upon the ignorant and credu- 
lous. Mesmer was thus interrupted in his career 
to wealth and fame, and a most insolent at- 
tempt to impose on the human understanding 
baffled. 

The important ends of Dr. Franklin's mission 
being completed by the establishment of Ameri- 
can independence, and the infirmities of age and 
disease coming upon him, he became desirous of 
returning to his native country. Upon applica- 
tion to Congress to be recalled, Mr. Jefferson 
was appointed to succeed him, in 1785. Some 
time in September of the same year, Dr. Frank- 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 153 

iin arrived in Philadelphia. He was shortly after 
chosen a member of the supreme executive coun- 
cil for the city, and soon after was elected pre- 
sident of the same. 

When a convention was, called to meet in 
Philadelphia, in 1787, for the purpose of giving 
more energy to the Government of the union, by 1 
revising and amending the articles of confedera- 
tion, Dr. Franklin was appointed a delegate 
from the State of Pennsylvania. He signed the 
constitution which they proposed for the union, 
and gave it the most unequivocal marks of his ap- 
probation. 

A society for political inquiries, of which Dr. 
Franklin was president, was established about 
this period. The meetings were held at his 
house. Two or three essays read in this soci- 
ety were published. It did not long contiuue. 

In the year 1787, two societies were establish- 
ed in Philadelphia, founded on the principles of 
the most liberal and refined humanity — The 
Philadelphia Society for alleviating the miseries of 
public prisons; and the Pennsylvania Society for 
promoting the abolition of slavery, the relief of 
free negroes unlawfully held in bondage, and the 
improvement of the condition of the African race. 
Of each of these Dr. Franklin was president. 
The labors of these bodies have been crowned 
with great success; and they continue to prose- 
cute, with unwearied diligence, the laudable de- 
signs for which they were established. 

Dr. Franklin's increasing infirmities prevent- 
ed his regular attendance at the council cham- 
ber; and, in 1788, he re-tired wholly from public 
life. 

His constitution had been a remarkably good 
one. He had been little subject to disease, ex- 
cept an attack of the gout occasionally, until 

g2 



154 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

about the year 1781, when he was first attacked 
with symptoms of the calculous complaint, which 
continued during his life. During* the intervals of 
pain from this grievous disease, he spent many 
cheerful hours, conversing in the most agreeable 
and instructive manner. His faculties were 
entirely unimpaired even to the hour of his 
•death. 

His name, as president of the Abolition Socie- 
ty, was signed to the memorial presented to the 
house of representatives of the United States, on 
the 12th of February, 1789, praying them to ex- 
ert the full extent of power vested in them by the 
constitution, in discouraging the traffic of the 
human species. This was his last public act, — 
In the debates to which his memorial gave rise, 
several attempts were made to justify the trade. 
In the Federal Gazette of March 25th, there ap- 
peared an essay, signed Historicus, written by 
Dr. Franklin, in which he communicated a 
speech, said to have been delivered in the Divan 
of Algiers, in 1687, in opposition to the prayer 
of the petition of a sect called Erika, or pur- 
suits, for the abolition of piracy and slavery. 
This pretended African speech was an excellent 
parody of one delivered by Mr. Jackson of Geor- 
gia. All the arguments urged in favor of negro 
slavery, are applied with equal force to justify 
the plundering and enslaving of Europeans, It 
affords, at the same time, a demonstration of 
the futility of the arguments in defence of the 
slave trade, and of the strength of mind and in- 
genuity of the author, at his advanced period of 
life. It furnished too, a no less convincing 
proof of his power of imitating the style of other 
times and nations than his celebrated parable 
against persecution. And as the latter led many 
persons to search the Scriptures with a view to 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 155 

find it, so the former caused many persons to 
-search the bookstores and libraries for the work 
from which it was said to be extracted** 

In the beginning of April following-, he was 
attacked with a fever and complaint of his breast, 
which terminated his existence. The following 
account of his last illness was written by his 
friend and physician, Dr. Jones. 

"The stone, with which he had been afflicted 
for several years, had for the last twelve months 
confined him chiefly to his bed; and, during the 
extremely painful paroxysms, he was obliged to 
take large doses of laudanum to mitigate his tor- 
tures — still, in the intervals of pain, he not only 
amused himself with reading and conversing 
cheerfully with his family, and a few friends who 
visited him, but was often employed in doing bu- 
siness of a public as well as private nature, with 
various persons who waited on him for that pur- 
pose; and in every instance displayed, not only 
that readiness and disposition of doing good, which 
was the distinguishing characteristic of his life, 
but the fullest and clearest possession of his un- 
common mental abilities;; and not unfrequently 
indulged himself in those jeux d' esprit and en- 
tertaining anecdotes, which were the delight of 
all who heard him. 

"About sixteen days before his death, he was 
seized with a feverish indisposition, without any 
particular symptoms attending it, till the third 
or fourth day, when he complained of a pain in 
the left breast, which increased till it became 
extremely acute, attended with a cough and labo- 
rious breathing. During this state, when the 
severity of his pains sometimes drew forth a 
groan of complaint, he would observe — that he 
was afraid he did not bear them as he ought — ac- 
* This speech will be found among his Essays. 



156 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 

knowledged his grateful sense of the many bless- 
ings he had received from that Supreme Being, 
who had raised him from small and low begin- 
nings to such high rank and consideration among 
men — and made no doubt but his present afflic- 
tions were kindly intended to wean him from a 
world, in which he was no longer fit to act the 
part assigned him. In this frame of body and 
mind he continued till five days before his death, 
when his pain and difficulty of breathing entirely 
left him, and his family were flattering them- 
selves with the hopes of his recovery, when an 
imposthumation, which had formed itself in his 
lungs, suddenly burst, and discharged a great 
quantity of matter, which he continued to throw 
up while he had sufficient strength to do it; but, 
as that failed, the organs of respiration became 
gradually oppressed — a calm lethargic state suc- 
ceeded — and, on the 17th of April, 1790, about 
eleven o'clock at night, he quietly expired, clos- 
ing a long and useful life of eighty-four years and 
three months." 

It may not be amiss to add to the above ac- 
count, that Dr. Franklin, in the year 1735, had 
a severe pleurisy, which terminated in an ab- 
scess of the left lobe of his lungs, and he was 
then almost suffocated with the quantity and sud- 
denness of the discharge. A second attack, of a 
similar nature, happened some years after this, 
from which he soon recovered, and did not ap- 
pear to suffer any inconvenience in his respira- 
tion from these diseases. 

The following epitaph on himself, was writ- 
ten by him many years previous to his death : 



LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 157 



THE BODY 

of 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 

Printer, 

(like the cover of an old book, 

its contents torn out, 

and stript of its lettering and gilding) 

lies here food for worms ; 
yet the work itself shall not be lost, 
for it will (as he believed) appear once more 
in a new 
and more beautiful edition, 
corrected and amended 
by 

THE AUTHOR. 



14 



159 WILL OF FRANKLIN. 



EXTRACTS FROM THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT 
OF DR. FRANKLIN, 

With regard to my books, those I had in 
France, and those I left in Philadelphia, being 
now assembled together here, and a catalogue 
made of them, it is my intention to dispose of 
the same as follows: 

My "History of the Academy of Sciences," 
in sixty or seventy volumes quarto, I give to the 
Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, of which 
I have the honor to be president. My collection 
in folio of "Les Arts et les Metiers," I give to 
the American Philosophical Society, established 
in New England, of which I am a member. My 
quarto edition of the same, "Arts et Metiers," 
I give to the Library Company of Philadelphia. 
Such and so many of my books as I shall mark, 
in the said catalogue, with the name of my grand- 
son, Benjamin Franklin Bache, I do hereby 
give to him; and such and so many of my books 
,as I shall mark in the said catalogue with the 
name of my grandson William Bache, I do here- 
by give to him: and such as shall be marked with 
the name of Jonathan Williams, I hereby give 
to my cousin of that name. The residue and re- 
mainder of all my books, manuscripts, and pa-* 
pers, I do give to my grandson William Temple 
Franklin. My share in the Library Company of 
Philadelphia I give to my grandson, Benjamin 
Franklin Bache, confiding that he will permit 
his brothers and sisters to share in the use of it, 
I was born in Boston, New England, and owe 
my first instructions in literature to the free gram^ 
mar schools established there. I therefore give one 
hundred pounds sterling to my executors, to be 
by them, the survivors or survivor of them, pai4 



160 EXTRACTS FROM 

over to the managers or directors of the free 
schools in my native town of Boston, to be by 
them, or the person or persons, who shall have 
the superintendence and management of the said 
schools, put out to interest, and so continued at 
interest for ever; which interest annually shall 
be laid out in silver medals, and given as honor- 
ary rewards annually by the directors of the 
said free schools, for the encouragement of 
scholarship in the said schools, belonging to the 
said town, in such manner as to the discretion of 
the select men of the said town shall seem meet. 

Out of the salary that may remain due to me, 
as president of the state, I give the sum of two 
thousand pounds to my executors, to be by them, 
the survivors or survivor of them, paid over to 
such person or persons as the legislature of this 
state, by an act of assembly, shall appoint to re- 
ceive the same, in trust, to be employed for mak- 
ing the Schuylkill navigable. 

During the number of years I was in business 
as a stationer, printer, and postmaster, a great 
many small sums became due to me, for books, 
advertisements, postage of letters, and other 
matters, which were not collected, when, in 
1757, I was sent by the Assembly to England as 
their agent — and, by subsequent appointments 
continued there till 1775 — when, on my return, 
I was immediately engaged in the affairs of Con- 
gress, and sent to France in 1776, where I re- 
mained nine years, not returning till 1785, and 
the said debts not being demanded in such a 
length of time, have become in a manner obso- 
lete, yet are nevertheless justly due. These as 
they are stated in my great folio ledger, E, I be- 
queath to the contributors of the Pennsylvania 
hospital, hoping that those debtors, and the de- 
scendants of such as are deceased, who now, as 



DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL. 161 

I find, make some difficulty of satisfying such an- 
tiquated demands as just debts, may, however, 
be induced to pay or give them as charity to that 
excellent institution. I am sensible that much 
must be inevitably lost; but I hope something 
considerable may be recovered. It is possible 
too, that some of the parties charged may have 
existing old unsettled accounts against me: in 
which case the managers of the said hospital 
will allow and deduct the amount, or pay the 
balance, if they find it against me. 

I request my friends, Henry Hill, Esq. John 
Jay, Esq. Francis Hopkinson, and Mr. Edward 
Duffieid of Bonfield, in Philadelphia county, to 
be the executors of this my last will and testa- 
ment, and I hereby nominate and appoint them 
for that purpose. 

I would have my body buried with as little ex- 
pense or ceremony as may be. 

Philadelphia , July 17th, 1788. 



CODICIL. 

I, Benjamin Franklin, in the foregoing or 
annexed last will and testament, having further 
considered the same, do think proper to make 
and publish the following codicil, or addition 
thereto. 

It having long been a fixed and political opin- 
ion of mine, that in a democratical state there 
ought to be no offices of profit, for the reasons 
I had given in an article of my drawing in our 
constitution, it was my intention, when I accept- 
ed the office of president, to devote the appoint- 
ed salary to some public use : accordingly I had 
already, before I made my last will, in July last, 
14 * 



169 EXTRACTS FROM 

given large sums of it to Colleges, Schools, build- 
ing of Churches, <fcc. and in that will I bequeath- 
ed two thousand pounds more to the state, for 
the purpose of making the Schuylkill navigable; 
but understanding since, that such a sum would 
do but little towards accomplishing such a work, 
and that the project is not likely to be under- 
taken for many years to come — and having en- 
tertained another idea, which I hope may be 
more extensively useful, I do hereby revoke and 
annul the bequest, and direct that the certifi- 
cates I have for what remains due to me of that 
salary, be sold towards raising the sum of two 
thousand pounds sterling, to be disposed of as I 
am now about to order. 

It has been an opinion, that he who receives 
an estate from his ancestors, is under some ob- 
ligation to transmit the same to posterity. This 
obligation lies not on me, who never inherited a 
shilling from any ancestor or relation. I shall, 
however, if it is not diminished by some acci- 
dent before my death, leave a considerable 
estate among my descendants and relations. The 
above observation is made merely as some apolo- 
gy to my family, for my making bequests that do 
not appear to have any immediate relation to 
their advantage. 

I was born in Boston, New England, and owe 
my first instructions in literature to the free 
grammar schools established there. I have there- 
fore considered those schools in my will. 

But I am also under obligations to the state of 
Massachusetts, for having, unasked, appointed 
me formerly their agent, with a handsome salary, 
which continued some years; and, although I ac- 
cidentally lost in their service, by transmitting 
GovernorHutchinson's letters, much more than 
the amount of what they gave me, I do not think 



DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL. 1G3 

that ought in the least to diminish my gratitude. 
I have considered that, among artisans, good ap- 
prentices are most likely to make good citizens; 
and having myself been bred to a manual art, 
printing, in my native town, and afterwards as- 
sisted to set up my business in Philadelphia by 
kind loans of money from two friends there, 
which was the foundation of my fortune, and of 
all the utility in life that may be ascribed to me, 
I wish to be useful even after my death, if possi- 
ble, in forming and advancing other young men, 
that may be serviceable to their country in both 
these towns. 

To this end I devote two thousand pounds 
sterling, which I give, one thousand thereof to 
the inhabitants of the town of Boston in Massa- 
chusetts, and the other thousand to the inhabi- 
tants of the city of Philadelphia, in trust, to and 
for the . uses, intents, and purposes, hereinafter 
mentioned and declared. 

The said sum of one thousand pounds sterl- 
ing, if accepted by the inhabitants of the town 
of Boston, shall be managed under the direc- 
tion of the select men, united with the minis- 
ters of the oldest Episcopalian, Congregational, 
and Presbyterian Churches in that town, who 
are to let out the same upon interest at five per 
cent, per annum, to such young married artifi- 
cers, under the age of twenty-five years, as have 
served an apprenticeship in the said town, and 
faithfully fulfilled the duties required in their in- 
dentures, so as to obtain a good moral character 
from at least two respectable citizens, who are 
willing to become sureties in a bond, with the 
applicants, for the repayment of the money so 
lent, with interest, according to the terms here- 
inafter prescribed ; all which bonds are to be 
taken for Spanish milled dollars, or the value 



164 EXTRACTS FROM 

thereof in current gold coin: and the manager 
shall keep a bound book, or books, wherein shall 
be entered the names of those who shall apply 
for and receive the benefit of this institulion, 
and of their sureties, together with the sums 
lent, the dates, and other necessary and proper 
records respecting the business and concerns of 
this institution; and as these loans are intended 
to assist young married artificers in setting up 
their business, they are to be proportioned by 
the discretion of the managers, so as not to ex- 
ceed sixty pounds sterling to one person, nor 
to be less than fifteen pounds. 

And if the number of appliers so entitled 
should be so large as that the sum will not suffice 
to afford to every one some assistance, these aids 
may therefore be small at first, but as the capital 
increases by the accumulated interest, they will 
be more ample. And in order to serve as many 
as possible in their turn, as well as to make the 
repayment of the principal borrowed more easy, 
each borrower shall be obliged to pay with the 
yearly interest one-tenth part of the principal; 
which sums of principal and interest so paid in, 
shall be again let out to fresh borrowers. And 
it is presumed, that there will be always found 
in Boston virtuous and benevolent citizens, will- 
ing to bestow a part of their time in doing good 
to the rising generation, by superintending and 
managing this institution gratis; it is hoped, that 
no part of the money will at any time lie dead, 
or be diverted to other purposes, but be continu- 
ally augmenting by the interest, in which case 
there may in time be more than the occasion in 
Boston may require: and then some may be spar- 
ed to the neighboring or other towns in the said 
state of Massachusetts, which may desire to have 
it, such towns engaging to pay punctually the 



DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL. 165 

interest, and the proportions of the principal 
annually to the inhabitants of the town of Bos- 
ton. If this plan is executed, and succeeds, as 
projected, without interruption for one hundred 
years, the sum will be then one hundred and 
thirty-one thousand pounds; of which I would 
have the managers of the donation to the town 
of Boston then lay out, at their discretion, one 
hundred thousand pounds in public works, which 
may be judged of most general utility to the in- 
habitants; such as fortifications, bridges, aque- 
ducts, public buildings, baths, pavements, or 
whatever may make living in the town more con- 
venient to its people, and render it more agree- 
able to strangers resorting thither for health, or 
a temporary residence. The remaining thirty- 
one thousand pounds I would have continued to 
be let out to interest, in the manner above di- 
rected, for one hundred years; as I hope it will 
have been found, that the institution has had a 
good effect on the conduct of youth, and been of 
service to many worthy characters and useful 
citizens. At the end of this second term, if no 
unfortunate accident has prevented the opera- 
tion, the sum will be four millions and sixty-one 
thousand pounds sterling, of which I leave one 
million and sixty-one thousand pounds to the dis- 
position and management of the inhabitants of 
the town of Boston, and the three millions to the 
disposition of the government of the state, not 
presuming to carry my views further. 

All the directions herein given respecting the 
disposition and management of the donation to 
the inhabitants of Boston, I would have observed 
respecting that to the inhabitants of Philadelphia, 
only as Philadelphia is incorporated, I request the 
Corporation of that city to undertake the manage- 
ment, agreeably to the said directions : and I do 



1G6 EXTRACTS FROM 

hereby vest them with full and ample powers for 
that purpose. And having considered that the 
covering its ground plat with buildings and pave- 
ments, which carry off most rain, and prevent 
its soaking into the earth, and renewing and pu- 
rifying the springs, whence the water of the 
wells must gradually grow worse, and in time 
be unfit for use, as 1 find has happened in all old 
cities; I recommend, that, at the end of the 
first hundred years, if not done before, the Cor- 
poration of the city employ a part of the hundred 
thousand pounds in bringing by pipes the water 
of Wissahickon creek into the town, so as to sup- 
ply the inhabitants; which I apprehend may be 
done without 'great difficulty, the level of that 
creek being much above that of the city, and may 
be made higher by a dam. I also recommend 
making the Schuylkill completely navigable. At 
the end of the second hundred years, I would 
have the disposition of the four millions and 
sixty-one thousand pounds divided between the 
inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia and the 
government of Pennsylvania, in the same man- 
ner as herein directed with respect to that of the 
inhabitants of Boston and the government of 
Massachusetts. It is my desire that this institu- 
tion should take place, and begin to operate 
within one year after my decease; for which 
purpose due notice should be publicly given, 
previous to the expiration of that year, that 
those for whose benefit this establishment is in^ 
tended may make their respective applications: 
and I hereby direct my executors, the survivors 
and survivor of them, within six months after my 
decease, to pay over the said sum of two thour 
sand pounds sterling to such persons as shallije 
duly appointed by the select men of Boston, and 
the Corporation of Philadelphia, and to receive 



DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL. 167 

and take charge of their respective sums of one 
thousand pounds each for the purposes aforesaid. 
Considering the accidents to which all human 
affairs and projects are subject in such a length 
of time, I have perhaps too much flattered my- 
self with a vain fancy, that these dispositions, 
if carried into execution, will be continued 
without interruption, and have the effects pro- 
posed; I hope, however, that if the inhabitants 
of the two cities should not think fit to undertake 
the execution, they will at least accept the offer 
of these donations, as a mark of my good will, 
token of my gratitude, and testimony of my de- 
sire to be useful to them even after my depar- 
ture; I wish, indeed, that they may both under- 
take to endeavor the execution of my project, 
because I think, that, though unforeseen difficul- 
ties may arise, expedients will be found to re- 
move them, and the scheme be found practica- 
ble. If one of them accepts the money with the 
conditions, and the other refuses, my will then 
is, that both sums be given to the inhabitants of 
the city accepting; the whole to be applied to 
the same purposes, and under the same regula- 
tions directed for the separate parts; and if both 
refuse, the money remains of course in the mass 
of my estate, and it is to be disposed of there- 
with, according to my will made the seventeenth 
day of July, 1788. 

My fine crab-tree walking-stick, with a gold 
head curiously wrought in the form of the Cap 
of Liberty, I give to my friend, and the friend 
of mankind, General Washington. If it were 
a sceptre, he has merited it y and would be- 
come it. 






ESSAYS, 

HUMOROUS, MORAL, AND LITERARY 

ON EARLY MARRIAGES. 

TO JOHN ALLEYN, ESQ. 
DEAR JACK, 

You desire, you say, my impartial thoughts on the sub- 
ject of an early marriage, by way of answer to the num- 
berless objections that have been made by numerous persons 
to your own. You may remember, when you consulted me 
on the occasion, that I thought youth on both sides to be no 
objection. Indeed, from the marriages that have fallen 
under my observation, I am rather inclined to think, that 
early ones stand the best chance of happiness. The temper 
and habits of the young are not yet become so stiff and un- 
complying, as when more advanced in life ; they form more 
easily to each other, and hence, many occasions of disgust 
are removed. And if youth has less of that prudence 
which is necessary to manage a family, yet the parents and 
elder friends of young married persons are generally at 
hand to afford their advice, which amply supplies that de- 
fect ; and, by early marriage, youth is sooner formed to 
regular and useful life ; and possibly some of those acci- 
dents or connexions, that might have injured the constitu- 
tion, or reputation, or both, are thereby happily prevented. 
Particular circumstances of particular persons may possibly 
sometimes make it prudent to delay entering into that state: 
but, in general, when nature has rendered our bodies fit for 
it, the presumption is in nature's favor, that she has not 
judged amiss in making us desire it. Late marriages are 
often attended, too, with this further inconvenience, that . 
there is not the same chance that the parents should live to 
see their offspring educated. ''Late children," says the 
Spanish proverb, "are early orphans." A melancholy re- 
15 H [169] 



170 ESSAYS. 

flection to those whose case it may be. With us in Ameri- 
ca, marriages are generally in the morning of life ; our 
children are therefore educated and settled in the world by 
noon ; and thus, our business being done, we have an after- 
noon and evening of cheerful leisure to ourselves, such as 
our friend at present enjoys. By these early marriages we 
are bJessed with more children ; and from the mode among 
us, founded by nature, of every mother suckling and nurs- 
ing her own child, more of them are raised. Thence the 
swift progress of population among us, unparalleled in 
Europe. In fine, I am glad you are married, and congratu- 
late you most cordially upon it. You are now in the way 
of becoming a useful citizen ; and you have escaped the un- 
natural state of celibacy for life — the fate of many here, 
who never intended it, but who having too long postponed 
the change of their conditions, find, at length, that it is too 
late to think of it, and so live all their lives in a situation 
that greatly lessens a man's value. An odd volume of a 
set of books bears not the value of its proportion to the set; 
what think you of the odd half of a pair of scissors ; it 
can't well cut any thing; it may possibly serve to scrape a 
trencher. 

Pray make my compliments and best wishes acceptable 
to your bride. I am old and heavy, or I should ere this 
have presented them in person. I shall make but small 
use of the old man's privilege, that of giving advice to 
younger friends. Treat your wife always with respect;, it 
will procure respect to you, not only from her, but from all 
that observe it. Never use a slighting expression to her, 
even in jest; for slights in jest, after frequent bandyings, 
are apt to end in angry earnest. Be studious in your pro- 
fession, and }'ou will be learned. Be industrious and frugal, 
and you will be rich. Be sober and temperate, and you 
will be healthy. Be in general virtuous, and you will be 
happy. At least, you will, by such conduct, stand the 
best chance for such consequences. I pray God to bless you 
both ! being ever your affectionate friend, 

B. FRANKLIN. 



ESSAYS. 171 

ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER, MR. JOHN FRANKLIN. 
TO MISS HUBBARD. 

I condole with you. We have lost a most dear and 
valuable relation. But it is the will of God and nature, 
that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to 
enter into real life. This is rather an embryo state, a pre- 
paration for living. A man is not completely born until he 
•be dead. Why then should we grieve that a new child is 
born among the immortals, a new member added to their 
happy society? We are spirits. That bodies should be 
lent us, while they can afford us pleasure, assist us in ac- 
quiring knowledge, or doing good to our fellow creatures, is 
a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become un- 
fit for these purposes, and afford us pain instead of plea- 
sure, instead of an aid become an incumbrance, and an- 
swer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is 
equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by 
which we may get rid of them. Death is that way. We 
.ourselves, in some eases, prudently choose a partial death. 
A mangled painful limb, which cannot be restored, we 
willingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth parts with it 
freely, since the pain goes with it : and he who quits the 
whole body parts at once with all pains, and possibilities ot 
pains and diseases it was liable to, or capable of making 
him suffer. 

Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of 
pleasure, which is to last for ever. His chair was ready 
first ; and he is gone before us. We could not all conveni- 
ently start together; and why should you and I be grieved 
at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find 
him? Adieu. 

B. FRANKLIN. 



TO THE LATE 
DOCTOR MATHER, OF BOSTON. 

REV. SIR, 

I received your kind letter, with your excellent advice 
to the people of the United States, which I read with great 
pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. Such writings, 



172 ' ESSAYS. 

though they may be lightly passed over by many readers, 
yet if they make a deep impression on one active mind in 
a hundred, the effects may be considerable. 

Permit me to mention one little instance, which, though 
it relates to myself, will not be quite uninteresting to you. 
When I was a boy, I met with a book entitled "Essays to 
do good," which I think was written by your father. It had 
been so lifctle regarded by a former possessor, that several 
leaves of it were torn out ; but the remaind'er gave me such 
a turn of thinking, as to have an influence on 1113^ conduct 
through life; for I have always set a greater value on the 
character of a doer of good tha'n any other kind of reputa- 
tion ; and if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citi- 
zen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book. 

You mention your being in your seventy-eighth year. I 
am in my seventy-ninth. We are. grown old together. It 
is now more than sixty years since I left Boston ; but I re- 
member well both your father and grandfather, having heard 
them both in the pulpit, and seen them in their houses. 
The last time I saw your father was the beginning of 17:24, 
when I visited him after my fust trip to Pennsylvania. He 
received me in his library; and, on my taking leave, show- 
ed me a shorter way out of the house, through a narrow 
passage, which was crossed by a beam overhead. We were 
still talking as I withdrew, he accompanying ine behind, 
and I turning partly towards him, when he said hastily, 
"Stoop! stoop!" I did not understand him till I felt my 
head hit against the beam. He was a man who never miss- 
ed any occasion of giving instruction ; and upon this he 
said to me: "You are young, and have the world before 
yx>u : stoop as you go through it, and you will miss many 
hard thumps." This advice, thus beat into my head, has 
frequently been of use to me ; and I often think of it when 
I see pride mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people 
by their carrying their heads too high. 

I long much to see again my native place ; and onre 
hoped to lay my bones there. I left it in 1723. I visited it in 
1733, 1743, 1753 and 1763; and in 1773 I was in England. 
In 1775 I had a sight of it, but could not enter, it being in 
possession of the enemy. I did hope to have been there in 
1783, but could not obtain my dismission from this employ- 
ment here; and now I fear 1 shall never have thafhappi- 



ESSAYS. 173 

ness. My best wishes nowever attend my deal* country. 
"Esio perpetual" It is now blessed with an excellent con- 
stitution : may it last for ever ! 

This powerful monarchy continues its friendship for the 
United States. It is a friendship of the utmost importance 
to our security, and should be carefully cultivated. Britain 
has not yet well digested the loss of its dominion over us; 
and has still at times some flattering hopes of recovering it. 
Accidents may increase those hopes, and encourage dan- 
gerous attempts. A breach between us and France would 
infallibly bring the English again upon our backs : and yet 
we have some wild beasts among our countrymen, who are 
endeavoring to weaken that connexion. 

Let us preserve our reputation, by performing our en- 
gagements; our credit, by fulfilling our contracts; and our 
friends, by gratitude and kindness: for we know not how 
soon we may again have occasion for all of them . 
With great and sincere esteem, 
1 have the honor to be, 

REV. SIR, 

Your most obedient and 
Most humble servant, 

B. FRANKLIN. 
'Passy, May 12th, 1784. 



THE WHISTLE. 

A TRUE STORY, 

WRITTEN TO HIS NEPHEW. 

When I was a child, at seven years old, my friends on 
a holiday, filled my pockets with coppers. I went directly 
to a shop where they sold toys for children ; and, being 
charmed with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way 
in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered him all 
my money for one. I then came home, and went whistling 
all over the house, much pleased with my whistle, but dis- 
turbing all the family. My brothers and sisters and cousins, 
understanding the bargain I had made, told me I had given 
four times as much for it as it was worth. This put me in 
mind what good things I might have bought with the rest of 
15* 



174 ESSAYS. 

the money; and they laughed at me so much for my folly' 
that I cried with vexation ; and the reflection gave me more 
chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure. 

This, however, was afterwards of use to me, the im- 
pression continuing on my mind ; so that often, when I was 
tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said to myself, 
DonH give too much for the ivliistle; and so I saved my 
money. 

As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the ac- 
tions of men, I thought I met with many, very many, who 
gave too much for the whistle. 

When I saw any o^ie too ambitious of court favor, 
sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, his 
liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I 
have said to myself, This man gave too much for his 
whistle. 

When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly em- 
ploying himself in political bustles, neglecting his own af- 
fairs, and ruining them by that neglect; -He pays indeed^ 
says I, too much for tJris ivhistle* 

If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of comfort- 
able living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all the 
esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent 
friendship, for the sake of accumulating wealth; Poor man, 
says I, you do indeed pay too much for your whistle. 

When I meet a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laud- 
able improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere 
corporeal sensations; Mistaken man, says I, you are pro- 
viding pain for yourself instead of pleasure : you give too 
much for your whistle. 

If I see one fond of fine clothes, fine furniture, fine 
equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts 
debts, and ends his career in prison; JLlas, says I, he has 
paid dear, very dear, for his ivhistle. 

When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl, married to 
an illnatured brute of a husband; What a pity it is, says 
I, that she has paid so much for a whistle. 

In short, I conceived that great part of the miseries of 
mankind were brought upon them by the false estimates they 
had made of the value of things, and by their giving too 
much for their whistles. 



ESSAYS. 175 

A PETITION 

TO THOSE WHO HAVE THE SUPERINTENDENCY OP 

EDUCATION. 

I address myself to all the friends of youth, and con- 
jure them to direct their compassionate regards to my un- 
happy fate, in order to remove the prejudices of which I am 
the victim. There are twin sisters of us : and the two eyes 
of man do not more resemble, nor are capable of being 
upon better terms with each other 4 than my sister and my- 
self, were it not for the partiality of our parents, who made 
the most injurious distinctions between us. From my in- 
fancy, I have been led to consider my sister as a being of a 
more elevated rank. I was suffered to grow up without the 
least instruction, while nothing was spared in her education. 
She had masters to teach her writing, drawing, music, and 
other accomplishments; but if, by chance, I touched a pen- 
cil, a pen, or a needle, I was bitterly rebuked; and more 
than once I have been beaten for being awkward, and 
wanting a graceful manner. It is true, my sister associated 
me with her upon some occasions ; but she always made a 
point of taking the lead, calling upon me only from neces- 
sity, or to figure by her side. 

But conceive not, Sirs, that my complaints are instigated 
merely by vanity. No ; my uneasiness is occasioned by an 
object much more serious. It is the practice in our family, 
that the whole business of providing for its subsistence falls 
upon my sister and myself. If any indisposition should at- 
tack my sister — and I mention it in confidence upon this oc- 
casion, that she is subject to the gout, the rheumatism, and 
cramp, without making mention of other accidents — what 
would be the fate of our poor family? Must not the regret 
of our parents be excessive, at having placed so great a dif- 
ference between sisters who are so perfectly equal % Alas ! 
we must perish from distress: for it would not be in my 
power even to scrawl a suppliant petition for relief, having 
been obliged to employ the hand of another in transcribing 
the request which I have now the honor to prefer to you. 

Condescend, Sirs, to make my parents sensible of the in- 
justice of an exclusive tenderness, and of the necessity of 



176 ESSAYS. 

distributing their care and affection among all their children 
equally. 

I am, with a profound respect, 
Sirs, 
Your obedient servant, 

THE LEFT HAND. 



HANDSOME AND DEFORMED LEG. 

There are two sorts of people in the world, who, with 
equal degrees of health and wealth, and the other comforts 
of life, become, the one happy, and the other miserable. 
This arises very much from the different views in winch 
they consider things, persons, and events; and the effect of 
those different views upon their own minds. 

In wnatever situation men can be placed, they may find 
conveniences and inconveniences: in whatever company, 
they may find persons and conversation more or less pleas- 
ing: at whatever table, they may meet with meats and 
drinks of better and worse taste, dishes belter and worse 
dressed: in whatever climate, they will find good and bad 
weather: under whatever government, they may find good 
and bad laws, and good and bad administration of those 
laws: in whatever poem, or work, of genius, they may see 
faults and beauties : in almost every face, and every person, 
they may discover fine features and delects, good and bad 
qualities. 

Under these circumstances, the two sorts of people 
above mentioned fix their attention; those who are disposed 
to be happy, on the conveniences of things, the pleasant 
parts of conversation, the well-dressed dishes, the goodness 
of the wines, the fine weather, &c. and enjoy all with 
cheerfulness. Those who are to be unhappy, think and 
speak only of the contraries. Hence they are continually 
discontented themselves, and, by their remarks, sour the 
pleasures of society ; offend personally many people, and 
make themselves every where disagreeable. If this turn of 
mind was founded in nature, such unhappy persons would 
be the more to be pitied. But as the disposition to criticise, 
and to be disgusted, is perhaps, taken up originally by imi- 



ESSAYS. 177 

tation, and is, unawares, grown into a habit, which, though 
at present strong, may nevertheless be cured, when those 
who have it are convinced of its bad effect on their felicity ; 
I hope this little admonition may be of- service to then., 
and put them on changing a habit, which, though in the 
exercise it is chiefly an act of imagination, yet it has seri- 
ous consequences in life, as it brings on real griefs and mis- 
fortunes. For as many as are offended by, and nobody 
loves, this scfrt of people ; no one snows them more than 
the most common civility and respect, and scarcely that; 
and this frequently puts them out of humor, and draws 
them into disputes and contentions. If they aim at obtain- 
ing some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody wishes them 
success, or will stir a step, or speak a word to favor their 
pretensions. If they incur public censure or disgrace, no 
one will defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate their 
misconduct, and render them completely odious. If these 
people will not change this bad habit, and condescend to be 
pleased with what is pleasing, without fretting themselves or 
others about the contraries, it is good for others to avoid an 
acquaintance with them, which is always disagreeable, and 
sometimes very inconvenient, especially when one finds 
one's self entangled in their quarrels. 

An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, from ex- 
perience, very cautious in this particular, and carefully 
avoided any intimacy with such people. He had, like other 
philosophers, a thermometer to show him the heat of the 
weather; and a barometer to mark when it was likely to 
prove good or bad ; but there being no instrument invented 
to discover, at first sight, thi3 unpleasing disposition in a 
person, he, for that purpose, made use of his legs : one of 
which was remarkably handsome ; the other, by some acci- 
dent, crooked and deformed. If a stranger, at first interview, 
regarded his ugly leg more than his handsome one, he 
doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no notice of the 
handsome leg, that was sufficient to determine my philoso- 
pher to have no further acquaintance with him. Fvery 
body has not this two-legged instrument; but every one, 
with a little attention, may observe signs of that carping, 
fault-finding disposition, and take the same resolution of 
avoiding the acquaintance of those infected with it. I there- 
fore advise those critical, querulous, discontented, unhap- 
h2 



178 ESSAYS. 

py people, if they wish to be respected and beloved by 
others, and happy in themselves, they should leave off look- 
ing at the ugly leg. 



CONVERSATION 

|OP A COMPANY QF EPHEMERA ; WITH A SOLILOQUY 
OF ONE ADVANCED IN AGE. 

TO MADAME BRILLIANT. 

You may remember, my dear friend, that when we late- 
ly spent that happy day, in the delightful garden and sweet 
society of the Moulin Joly, I stopt a little in one of our 
walks, and staid some time behind the company. We had 
been shown numberless skeletons of a kind of little fly, 
called an Ephemera, whose successive generations, we 
were told, were bred and expired within the day. I hap- 
pened to see a living company of them on a leaf, who 
appeared to be engaged in conversation. You know I un- 
derstand all the inferior animal tongues; my too great ap- 
plication to the study of them is the best excuse I can give 
for the little progress I have made jn your charming lan- 
guage, I listened through curiosity to the discourse of these 
little creatures; but as they, in their national vivacity, 
spoke three or four together, I could make but little of their 
conversation, J found, however, by some broken expres- 
sions that I heard now and then, they were disputing warm- 
ly on the merit of two foreign musicians, one a cousin^ the 
Other a moscheto ; in which dispute they spent their time, 
seeming as regardless of the shortness of their life as if they 
had been sure of living a month. Happy people, thought 
I, you live certainly under a wise, just, and mild governr 
ment, since you have no public grievances to complain of, 
nor any other subject of contention but the perfections or 
imperfections of foreign music. I turned my head from 
them to an old gray-headed one, who was single on another 
leaf, and talking to himself. Being amused with his solilO? 
quy, I put it down in writing, in hopes it will likewise 
amuse her to whom I am so much indebted for the most 
pleasing of all amusements, her delicious company an4 
heavenly harmony. 



essays. m 

11 It was," says he, " the opinion of learned philosophers 
of our race, who lived and flourished long before my time, 
that this vast world, the Moulin Joly, could not itself sub- 
sist more than eighteen hours : and I think there was some 
foundation for that opinion ; since, by the apparent motion 
of the great luminary, that gives life to all nature, and 
which in my time has evidently declined considerably to- 
wards-the ocean at the end of the earth, it must then finish 
its course, be extinguished in the waters that surround usy 
and leave the world in cold and darkness, necessarily pro- 
ducing universal death and destruction. I have lived seven 
of those houTs j a great age, being no less than four hun- 
dred and twenty minutes of time! How very few of us- 
continue so long ! I have seen generations born, flourish, 
and expire. My present friends are the chiklrew and grand- 
children of the friends of my youth, who are now, alas, no 
more ! And I must soon follow them ; for, by the common 
course of nature, though still in health, I cannot expect to 
live above seven or eight minutes longer. What now avails 
all my toil and labor, in amassing honey-dew on this leaf, 
which I cannot live to enjoy. What my political struggles 
I have been engaged in, for the good of my compatriot in- 
habitants of this bush, or my philosophical studies, for the 
benefit of our race in general : for in politics (what can 
laws do without morals?) our present race of ephemerae 
will in a course of minutes become corrupt, like those of 
other and older bushes, and consequently as wretched ! And 
in philosophy how small our progress. Alas ! art is long, 
and life is short ! My friends would comfort me with the 
idea of a name, they say,. I shall leave behind me; ani 
they tell me I have lived long, enough to nature and to glory. 
But what will fame be to an ephemera who no longer ex- 
ists? and what will become of all history in the eighteenth 
hour, when the world itself, even the whole Moulin Joly, 
shall come to its end, and be buried in a universal ruin?" 

To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid pleasures 
now remain, but the reflection of a long life spent in mean- 
ing well, the sensible conversation of a few good lady ephe- 
meras, and now and then a kind smile and a tune from the 
ever amiable Brilliant. 

B. FRANKLIN. 



180 ESSAYS. 



MORALS OF CHESS. 

Playing at chess is the most ancient and universal game 
known among men ; for its original is beyond the memory 
of history, and it has, for numberless ages, been the amuse- 
ment of all the civilized nations of Asia, the Persians, the 
Indians, and the Chinese. Europe has had it above a thou- 
sand years; the Spaniards have spread it over their part of 
America, and it begins to make its appearance in these 
States. It is so interesting in itself as not to need the view 
of gain to induce engaging in it; and thence it is never play- 
ed for money. Those, therefore, who have leisure for such 
diversions, cannot find one that is more innocent; and the 
following piece, written with a view to correct (among a 
few young friends) some little improprieties in the practice 
of it, shows, at the same time, that it may, in its effects 
on the mind, be not merely innocent, but advantageous, to 
the vanquished as well as the victor. 

The game of chess is not merely an idle amusement. 
Several very valuable qualities of the mind, useful in the 
course of human life, are to be acquired or strengthened by 
it, so as to become habits, ready on all occasions. For life 
is a kind of chess, in which we have points to gain, and 
competitors or adversaries to contend with, and in which 
there is a vast variety of good and ill events, that are, in 
some degree, the effects of prudence or the want of it. By 
playing at chess then, we learn, 

I. Foresight, which looks a little into futurity, considers 
the consequences that may attend an action : for it is con- 
tinually occurring to the flayer, " If I move this piece, 
what will be the advantage of my new situation? What 
use can my adversary make of it to annoy me? What 
other moves can I make to support it, and to defend myself 
from his attacks?" 

II. Circumspection, which surveys the whole chess- 
board, or scene of action, the relatione of the several pieces 
and situations, the dangers they are respectively exposed to, 
the several possibilities of their aiding each other, the pro- 
babilities that the adversary may take this or that move, 
and attack this or the other piece, and what different means 



ESSAYS. 181 

can be used to avoid his stroke, or turn its consequences 
against him. 

III. Caution, not to make our moves too hastily. This 
habit is best acquired by observing strictly the laws of the 
game, such as, "If you touch a piece, you must move it 
somewhere ; if you set it down, you must let it stand :" and 
it is therefore best that these rules should be observed ; as 
the game thereby becomes more the image of human life, 
and particularly of war; in which, if you have incautiously 
put yourself into a bad and dangerous position, you cannot 
obtain your enemy's leave to withdraw your troops, and 
place them more securety, but you must abide all the con 
sequences of your rashness. 

And, lastly, we learn by chess the habit of not being 
discouraged by present bad appearances in the state of our 
affairs, the habit of hoping for a favorable change, and 
that of perseveHng in the search of resources. The game 
is so full of events, there is such a variety of turns in it, 
the fortune of it is so subject to sudden vicissitudes, and one 
so frequently, after long contemplation, discovers the means 
of extricating one's self from a supposed insurmountable 
difficulty, that one is encouraged to continue the contest to 
the last, in hope of victory by our own skill, or at least of 
giving a stale mate, by the negligence of our adversary. 
And whoever considers^ what in chess he often sees instan- 
ces of, that particular pieces of success are apt to produce 
presumption^ and its consequent inattention, by which the 
loss may be recovered, will learn nut to be too much dis- 
couraged by the present success of his adversary, nor to des- 
pair of final good fortune, upon every little check he receives 
in the pursuit of it. 

That we may, therefore, be induced more frequently to 
choose this beneficial amusement, in preference to others, 
which are not attended with the same advantages, every 
circumstance which may increase the pleasure of it should 
be regarded ; and every action or word that is unfair, dis- 
respectful, or that in any way may give uneasiness, should 
be avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention of both 
the players, which is to pass the time agreeably. 

Therefore, first, If it is agreed to play according to the 
strict rules, then those rules are to be exactly observed by 
16 



182 ESSAYS. 

both parties, and should not be insisted on for one side, 
while deviated from by the other — lor this is not equitable. 

Secondly, If it is agreed not to observe the rules exactly, 
but one party demands indulgences, he should then be as 
willing to allow them to the other. 

Thirdly, No false move should ever be made to extricate 
yourself out of a difficulty, or to gain an advantage. There 
can be no pleasure in playing with a person once detected in 
such unfair practices. 

Fourthly, If your adversary is long in playing, you 
ought not to hurry him, or to express any uneasiness at his 
delay. You should not sing, nor whistle, nor look at your 
watch, nor take up a book to read, nor make a tapping 
with your feet on the floor, or with your fingers on the table, 
nor do any thing that may disturb his attention. For all 
these things displease; and they do not show your skill in 
playing, but your craftiness or your rudeness. 

Fifthly, You ought not to endeavor to amuse and deceive 
your adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, 
and saying that you have now lost the game, in order to 
make him secure and careless, and inattentive to your 
schemes; for this is fraud and deceit, not skill in the 
game. 

Sixthly, You must not, when you have gained a victory, 
use any triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too 
much pleasure; but endeavor to console your adversary, 
and make him less dissatisfied with himself, by every kind 
of civil expression tnat may be used with truth ; such as, 
"You understand the game better than I, but you are a 
little inattentive ; or, you play too fast ; or, you had the 
best of the game, but something happened to divert your 
thoughts, and that turned it in my favor." 

Seventhly, If you are a spectator while others play, ob- 
serve the most perfect silence. For if you give advice, you 
offend both parties ; him against whom you give it, because 
it may cause the loss of his game ; arid him, in whose favor 
you give it, because, though it be good, and he follows it, 
he loses the pleasure he might have had, if you had permit- 
ted him to think until it had occurred to himself. Even after 
a move or moves, you must not, by replacing the pieces, 
show how it might have been placed better; for that dis- 
pleases, and may occasion disputes and doubts about their 



ESSAYS. 183 

true situation. All talking to the players lessens or diverts 
their attention, and is therefore unpleasing. Nor should 
you give the least hint to either party, by any kind of noise 
or motion. If you do, you are unworthy to be a spectator. 
If you have a mind to exercise or show your judgment, do 
■it in playing your own game, when you have an opportuni- 
ty, not in criticising, or meddling with, or counselling the 
play of others. 

Lastly, If the game is not to be played rigorously, ac- 
cording to the rules above mentioned, then moderate your 
desire of victory over your adversary, and be pleased with 
one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at every advantage 
offered by his unskilfulness or inattention; but point out to 
•him kindly, that by such a move he places or leaves a piece 
in danger and unsupported ; that by another he will put his 
J king in a perilous situation, &c. By this generous civility 
(so opposite to the unfairness above forbidden) you may, 
indeed, happen to lose the game to your opponent, but you 
will win what is better, his esteem, his respect, and his af- 
fection ; together with the silent approbation and good-will 
of impartial spectators. 



, THE 

ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMS. 

j INSCRIBED TO MISS * * *, 

BEING WRITTEN AT HER REQUEST. 

As a great part of our life is spent in sleep, during which 
we have sometimes pleasing and sometimes painful dreams, 
it becomes of some consequence to obtain the one kind, and 
avoid the other; for whether real or imaginary, pain is 
pain, and pleasure is pleasure. If we can sleep without 
■dreaming, it is well that painful dreams are avoided. If, 
while we sleep, we can have any pleasing dreams, it is, as 
the French say, tant gagne. so much added to the pleasure 
of life. 

To this end it is, in the first place, necessaiy to be care- 
ful in preserving health, by due exercise and great temper- 
ance ; for, in sickness, the imagination is disturbed ; and 



184 ESSAYS. 

disagreeable sometimes terrible, ideas are apt to present 
themselves. Exercise should precede meals, not immediate- 
ly follow them : the first promotes, the latter, unless moder- 
ate, obstnirts digestion. If after exercise we feed sparing- 
ly, the digestion will be easy and good, the body lightsome, 
the temper cheerful, and all the animal functions performed 
agreeably. Sleep, when it follows, will be natural and 
undisturbed. While indolence, with full feeding, occasions 
night-mares and horrors inexpressible : we fall from preci- 
pices, are assaulted by wild beasts, murderers, and demons, 
and experience every variety of distress. Observe, however, 
that the quantities of food and exercise are relative things: 
those who move, much may, and indeed ought, to eat more; 
those who use little exercise, should eat little. In general, 
mankind, since the improvement of cookery, eat about 
twice as much as nature requires. Suppers are not bad, if 
we' have not dined ; but restless nights naturally follow 
hearty suppers, after full dinners. Indeed, as there is a 
difference in constitutions, some will rest after these meals; 
it costs them only a frightful dream and an apoplexy, after 
which they sleep till doomsday. Nothing is more common 
in the newspapers, than instances of people, who, after eat- 
ing a hearty supper, are found dead abed in the morning. 
Another means of preserving health, to be attended to, 
Is the having a constant supply of fresh air in your bed- 
chamber. It has been a great mistake, the sleeping in 
rooms exactly closed, and in beds surrounded by curtains. 
No outward air, that ma}' come into you, is so unwhole- 
some as the unchanged air, often breathed, of a close cham- 
ber. As boiling water does not grow hotter by longer boil- 
ing, if the particles that receive greater heat can escape; so 
living bodies do not putrefy, if the particles, as fast as they 
become putrid, can be thrown off. Nature expels them by 
the pores of the skin and lungs, and in a free open air, they 
are earned off; but, in ;i close room, we receive them again 
and again, though they heroine more and more corrupt. A' 
number of persons crowded into a small room, thus spoil 
the air in a few minutes, and even render it mortal, as in 
the Black Hole at Calcutta. A single person is said only 
to spoil a gallon of air per minute, and therefore requires a 
.onger time to spoil a chamberful ; but it is done, however, in 
proportion, and many putrid disorders have hence their ori 



ESSAYS. 185 

gin. It is recorded of Methusalem, who, being the longest 
liver, may be supposed to have best preserved his health, 
that he slept always in the open air; for, when he had lived 
five hundred years, an angel said to him, "Arise, Methu- 
salem, and build thee a house, for thou shalt live yet five 
hundred years longer." Buit Methusalem answered and 
said ; "If I atn to live but five hundred years longer, it is 
not worth while to build me a house — I will sleep in the air 
as I have been used to do." Physicians, after having for 
ages contended that the sick should not be indulged with 
fresh air, have at length discovered that it may do them 
good. It is therefore to be hoped, that they may in time dis- 
cover likewise, that it is not hurtful to those who are in 
health; and that we may then be cured of the aerophobia 
that at present distresses weak minds, and makes them 
choose to be stifled and poisoned, rather than leave open 
the window of a bedchamber, or put down the glass of a 
coach. ' 

Confined air, when saturated with perspirable matter, * 
will not receive more : and that matter must remain in our 
bodies, and occasion diseases : but it gives some previous 
notice of its being about to be hurtful, by producing certain 
uneasiness, slight, indeed at first, such as, with regard to 
the lungs is a trifling sensation, and to the pores of the skin 
a kind of restlessness which is difficult to describe, and few 
that feel it know the cause of it. But we may recollect, 
that sometimes, on waking in the night, we have, if warm- 
ly covered, found it difficult to get to sleep again. We turn 
often, without finding repose in any position. This fidget- 
tiness, to use a vulgar expression for want of a better, is 
occasioned wholly by an uneasiness in the skin, owing to 
the retention of the perspirable matter — the bedclothes hav- 
ing received their quant ity, and, being saturated, refusing 
to take any more. To become sensible of this by an expe- 
riment, let a person keep his position in the bed, but throw 
off the bedclothes, and suffer fresh air to approach the part 
uncovered of his body ; he will then feel that part suddenly 
refreshed ; for the air will immediately relieve the skin, by 

*What physicians call the perspirable matter, is that vapor 
which passes off from our bodies, from the lungs, and through 
the pores of the skin. The quantity of this is said to be five- 
eiirhths of what we eat. 
16* 



18G ESSAYS. 

receiving, licking up, and carrying off, the load of perspi- 
rable matter that incommoded it. For every portion of 
cool air that approaches the warm skin, in receiving its 
part of that vapor, receives therewith a degree of heat, that 
•rarefies and renders it lighter, when it will be pushed away, 
with its burden, by cooler and therefore heavier fresh air; 
which, for a moment, supplies its place, and then, being 
likewise changed, and wanned, gives way to a succeeding 
quantity. This is the order of nature, to prevent animals 
being infected by their own perspiration. He will now be 
sensible of the difference between the part exposed to the 
air, and that which, remaining sunk in the bed, denies the 
air access; for this part now manifests its uneasiness more 
distinctly by the comparison, and the seat of the uneasiness 
is more plainly perceived than when the whole surface of the 
oody was affected by it. 

Here then is one great and general cause of impleading 
dreams. For when the body is uneasy, the mind will be 
disturbed by it, and disagreeable ideas of various kinds will, 
m sleep, be the natural consequences. The remedies, pre- 
ventive and curative, follow : 

1. By eating moderately (as before advised for health's 
sake) less perspirable matter is produced in a given time; 
hence the bedclothes receive it longer before they are satu- 
rated ; and we may, therefore, sleep longer, before we are 
made uneasy by their refusing to receive any more. 

2. By using thinner and more porous bedclothes, which 
will suffer the perspirable matter more easily to pass 
through them, we are less incommoded, such being longer 
tolerable. 

3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, and find 
you cannot easily sleep again, get out of bed, beat up and 
turn your pillow, shake the bedclothes well, with at least 
twenty shakes, then throw the bed open, and leave it to 
cool; in the meanwhile, continuing undrest, walk about 
your chamber, till your skin has had time to discharge its 
load, which it will do sooner as the air may be drier and 
colder. When you begin to feel the cold air unpleasant, 
then return to your bed ; and you will soon fall asleep, and 
your sleep will be sweet and pleasant. All the scenes pre- 
sented to your fancy will be of the pleasing kind. I am of- 
ten as agreeably entertained with them, as by the scenery of 



ESSAYS. 187 

an opera. If you happen to be too indolent to get out of bed, 
you may, instead of it, lift up your bedclothes with one 
arm and leg, so as to draw in a good deal of fresh air, and 
by letting them fall, force it out again; this, repeated twen- 
ty times, will so clear them of the perspirable matter they 
have imbibed, as to permit your sleeping well for some 
time afterwards. But this latter method is not equal to the 
former. 

Those who do not love trouble, and can afford to have 
two beds, -will find great luxury in rising, when they wake 
in a hot bed, and going into the cold one. Such shifting of 
beds would also be of great service to persons ill of a fever, 
as it refreshes and frequently procures sleep. A very large 
bed, that will admit a removal so distant from the first situ- 
ation as to be cool and sweet, may in a degree answer the 
same end. 

One or two observations more will conclude this little 
piece. Care must be taken, when you lie down, to dispose 
your pillow so as to suit your manner of placing your head, 
and to be perfectly easy; then place your limbs so as not to 
bear inconveniently hard upon one another ; as for instance, 
the joints of your ankles : for though a bad position may at 
first give but little pain, and be hardly noticed, yet a con- 
tinuance will render it less tolerable, and the uneasiness 
may come on while you are asleep, and disturb your ima- 
gination. 

These are the rules of the art. But though they will gen- 
erally prove effectual in producing the end intended, there 
is a case in which the most punctual observance of them 
will be totally fruitless. I need not mention the case to you, 
my dear friend : but my account of the art would be imper- 
fect without it. The case is, when the person who desires 
to have pleasant dreams has not taken care to preserve, 
what is necessary, above all things, — a good conscience. 



188 ESSAYS. 

ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. 

WRITTEN ANNO 1748. 

TO MY FRIEND, A. B. 

As you have desired it of me, I vv'rite the following hints, 
which have been of service to me, and may, if observed, 
be so to you. 

RememUer that time is money. He that can earn ten 
shillings a day by his labor, and goes abroad, or sits idle 
one half of that day, though he spends but sixpence during 
his diversion or idleness, ought not to reckon that the only 
expense; he has really spent, or rather thrown away, five 
shillings besides. 

Remember that credit is money. If a man lets his 
money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the inter- 
est, or so much as I can make of it during that time. This 
amounts to a considerable sum where a man has good and 
large credit, and makes good use of it. 

Remember that money is of a prolific generating nature. 
Money can beget money, and its offspring can beget more, 
and so on. Five shillings turned is six; turned again it is 
seven and threepence ; and so on till it becomes a hundred 
pounds. The more there is of it, the more it produces every 
turning, so that the profits rise quicker and quicker. He that 
kills a breeding sow, destroys all her offspring to the thou-* 
sandth generation. He that murders a crown, destroys all 
that it might have produced, even scores of pounds. 

Remember that six pounds a year is but a groat a day. 
For this little sum (winch may be daily wasted either in 
time or expense, unperceived,) a man of credit may, on 
his own security, have the constant possession and use of a 
hundred pounds. So much in stock, briskly turned by an 
industrious man, produces great advantage. 

Remember this saying : "The good paymaster is lord of 
another man's purse." He that is known to pay punctual- 
ly and exactly to the time he promises, may, at any time 
and on any occasion, raise all the money his friends can 
spare. This is sometimes of great use. After industry and 
frugality, nothing contributes more to the raising a young 



ESSAYS. 189 

roan in the world, than punctuality and justice in all his 
dealings : therefore never keep borrowed money an hour be- 
yond the time you promised, lest a disappointment shut up 
your friend's purse for ever. ' 

The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit are to 
be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the 
morning, or nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him 
easy six months longer ; but if he sees you at a billiard-table, 
or hears your voice at a tavern, when you should be at 
work, h<| sends for his money the next day; demands it be- 
fore he can receive it in a lump. 

It shows, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe ; 
it makes you appear a careful as well as an honest man, 
and that still increases your credit. 

Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, and 
of living accordingly. It is a mistake that many people who 
have credit fall into. To prevent this, keep an exact ac- 
count, for some time, both of your expenses and your in- 
come. If you take the pains at first to mention particulars, 
it will have this good effect; you will discover how wonder- 
fully small trifling expenses mount up to large sums, and will 
discern what might have been, and may for the future be 
saved, without occasioning any great inconvenience. 

In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as plain 
as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two words, 
industry and frugality ; that is, waste neither time nor 
money*, but make the best use of both. Without industry 
and frugality nothing will do, and with them every thing. 
He that gets all he can honestly, and saves all he gets (ne- 
cessary expenses excepted,) will certainly become rich — if 
that Being, who governs the world, to whom all should 
look for a blessing on their honest endeavors, doth not in 
his wise providence otherwise determine. 

AN OLD TRADESMAN. 



190 ESSAYS. 

NECESSARY HINTS 
TO THOSE THAT WOULD BE RICH. 

WRITTEN ANNO 1733. 

The use of money is all the advantage there is in having 
money. 

For six pounds a year you may have the use of one hun- 
dred pounds, provided you are a man of known prudence 
and honesty. 

He that spends a groat a day idly, spends idly above 
six pounds a year, which is the price for the use of one hun- 
dred pounds. 

He that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time per day, 
one day with another, wastes the privilege of using one hun- 
dred pounds each day. 

He that idly loses five shillings worth of time, loses five 
shillings, and might as prudently throw five shillings into 
the sea. 

He that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, but 
all the advantages that might be made by turning it in deal- 
ing; which, by the time that a young man becomes old, will 
amount to a considerable sum of money. 

Again ; he that sells upon credit, asks a price for what 
he sells equivalent to the principal and interest of his 
money for the time he is to be kept out of it; therefore, he 
that buys upon credit, pays interest for what he buys; and 
he that pays ready money, might let that money out to use ; 
so that he that possesses any thing he has bought, pays in- 
terest for the use of it. 

Yet, in buying goods, it is beet to pay ready money, be- 
cause he that sells upon credit, expects to lose five per cent, 
by bad debts; therefore he charges, on all he sells upon 
credit, an advance that shall make up that deficiency. 

Those who pay for what they buy upon credit, pay their 
snare of this advance. 

He that pays ready money escapes, or may escape, that 
charge. 

A penny saved is twopence clear; 
A pin a day 's a groat a year. 



ESSAYS, 191 

THE WAY TO MAKE MONEY PLENTY IN 
EVERY MAN'S POCKET. 

At this time, when the general complaint is that — 
"money is scarce," it will be an act of kindness to inform 
the moneyless how they may reinforce their pockets. I will 
acquaint them with the true secret of money-catching — the 
certain way to fill empty purses — and how to keep them al- 
ways full. Two simple rules, well observed, will do the 
business. 

Firsty Let honesty and industry be thy constant compan- 
ions; and, 

Secondly, Spend one penny less than thy clear gains. 

Then shall thy hide-bound pocket soon begin to thrive, 
and will never again ciy v/ith the empty bellyach; neither 
will creditors insult thee, nor want oppress, nor hunger bite, 
nor nakedness freeze thee. The whole hemisphere will 
shine brighter, and pleasure, spring up in every corner of 
thy heart. Now, therefore, embrace these rules and be 
happy. Banish the bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, 
and live independent. Then shalt thou be a man, and not 
hjde thv face at the approach of the rich, nor suffer the 
pain of feeling little when the sons of fortune walk at thy 
right hand : for independency, whether with little or much, 
is good fortune^ and placeth thee on even ground with the 
proudest of the golden fleece. Oh, then, be wise, and let 
industry walk with thee in the morning, and attend thee un- 
till thou reachest the evening hour for rest. Let honesty be 
as the breath of thy soul, and never forget to have a penny, 
when all thy expenses are enumerated and paid : then shalt 
thou reach the point of happiness, and independence shall 
be thy shield and buckler, thy helmet and crown ; then 
shall thy soul walk upright, nor stoop to the silken wretch 
because he hath riches, nor pocket an abuse because th* 
hand which offers it wears a ring set with diamonds. 



192 ESSAYS. 

AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT. 

A translation of thisJLetter appeared in one of the daily 
papers of Paris about the year 1784. The following is 
the original piece, with some additions and corrections 
made by the Author. 

TO THE AUTHORS OF THE JOURNAL. 

MESSIEURS, 

You often entertain us with accounts of new discoveries. 
Permit me to communicate to the public, through your pa- 
per, one that has lately been made by myself, and which I 
conceive may be of great utility. 

I was the other evening in a grand company, where the 
new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was introduced, 
and much admired for its splendor; but a general inquiry 
was made, whether the oil it consumed was not in propor- 
tion to the light it afforded, in which case there would be no 
saving in the use of it. No one present could satisfy us in 
that point, which all agreed ought to be known, it being a 
very desirable thing to lessen, if possible, the expense of 
lighting our apartments, when every other article of family 
expense was so much augmented. 

I was pleased to see this general concern for economy,, 
for I love economy exceedingly. 

I went home, and to bed, three or four hours after mid- 
night, with my head full of the subject. An accidental 
sudden noise waked me about six in the morning, when I 
was surprised to find my room filled with light; and I im- 
agined, at first, that a number of those lamps- had been 
brought into it : but, rubbing my eyes, I perceived the light 
came in at the windows. I got up, and looked out to see 
what might be the occasion of it, when I saw the sun just 
rising above the horizon, from* whence he poured his rays 
plentifully into my chamber, my domestic having negligent- 
ly omitted the preceding evening to close the shutters. 

I looked at my watch, which goes very well, and found 
that it was about six o'clock ; and still thinking it was some- 
thing extraordinary that the sun should rise so early, I look- 
ed into the almanac, where I found it to be the hour given 
for his rising on that day. I looked forward too, and found 
he was to rise still earlier every day till towards the end of 



ESSAYS. 193 

June; and that at no time in the year he retarded his rising 
so long as till eight o'clock. Your readers, who with me 
have never seen any signs of sunshine before noon, and 
seldom regard the astronomical pari of the almanac, will 
be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his ris- 
ing so early; and especially when I assure them, that he 
gives light as soon as he rises. I am convinced of this. I 
am certain of my fact. One cannot be more certain of 
any fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And having repeat- 
ed this observation the three following mornings, I found 
always precisely the same result. 

Yet it happens, that when I speak of this discovery to 
others, I can easily perceive by their countenances, though 
they forbear expressing it in words, that they do not quite 
believe me. One, indeed, who is a learned natural philo- 
sopher, has assured me, that I must certainly be mistaken 
as to the circumstances of the light coming into my room ; 
for it being well known, as he says, that there could be no 
light abroad at that hour, it follows that none could enter 
from without ; and that of consequence, my windows being 
accidentally left open, instead of letting in the light, had 
only served to let out the darkness : and he used many in- 
genious arguments to shovy me how I might, by that means, 
have been deceived. I own that he puzzled- me a little, but 
he did not satisfy me ; and the subsequent observations I 
made, as above-mentioned, confirmed me in my first 
opinion. 

This event has given rise, in my mind, to several serious 
and important reflections. I considered that, if I had not 
been awakened so early in the morning, I should have slept 
six hours longer by the light of the sun, and in exchange 
have lived six hours the following night by candlelight ; and 
the latter being a much more expensive light than the for- 
mer, my love of economy induced me to muster up what 
little arithmetic I was master of, and to make some calcula- 
tions, which I shall give you, after observing, that utility 
is, in my opinion, the test of value in matters of invention, 
and that a discovery which can be applied to no use, or is 
not good for something, is good for nothing. 

I took for the basis of my calculation the supposition, 
that there are one hundred thousand families in Paris, and 
that these families consume in the night half a pound of 

I 



194 ESSAYS. 

bougies, or candles, per hour. I think this is a moderate 
allowance, taking one family with another; for though I 
believe some consume less, I know that many consume a 
great deal more. Then estimating seven hours per day, 
as the medium quantity between the time of the sun's ris- 
ing and ours, he rising during the six following months from 
six to eight hours before noon, and there being seven hours 
of course per night in which we bum candles, the account 
will stand thus : — 

In the six months between the twentieth of March and the 
twentieth of September, there are Nights 183 
Hours of each night in which we burn can- 
dles 7 

Multiplication gives for the total number of 

hours 1,281 

These 1,281 hours multiplied by 100,000, 

the number of inhabitants given 128,100,000 

One hundred twenty-eight millions and one 
hundred thousand hours, spent at Faris by 
candlelight, which at half a pound of wax 
and tallow per hour, gives the weight of 64,050,000 

Sixty-four millions and fifty thousand of 
pounds, which, estimating the whole at the 
medium price of thirty sols the pound, 
makes the sum of ninety-six millions and 
seventy-five thousand livres tournois-..« 96,075,000 

An immense sum ! that the people of Paris might save 
every year, by the economy of using sunshine instead of 
candles. 

If it should be said, that people are apt to be obstinate- 
ly attached to old customs, and that it will be difficult to in- 
duce them to rise before noon, conseauently my discovery 
can be of little use; I answer, Nil desjyerandum. I be- 
lieve all who have common sense, as soon as they have 
learnt from this paper, that it is day-light when the sua 
rises, will contrive to rise with him ; and, to compel the 
rest, I would propose thefollowing regulations : 

First. Let a tax be laid of a louis per window, on every 
window that is provided with shutters to keep out the light 
of the sun. 



ESSAYS. 195 

Second. Let the same salutary operation of police be 
made use of to prevent our burning candles that inclined 
us last winter to be more economical in burning wood ; that 
is, let guards be placed in the shops of the w^ax and tallow- 
chandlers, and no family be permitted to be supplied with 
more than one pound of candles per week. 

Third. Let guards also be posted to stop all the coaches, 
&c. that would pass the streets after sunset, except those 
of physicians, surgeons, and midwives. 

Fourth. Every morning, as soon as the sun rises, let all 
the bells in every Church be set ringing; and if that is not 
sufficient, let a cannon be fired in every street, to wake the 
sluggards effectually, and make them open their eyes to see 
their true interest. 

All the difficulty will be in the first two or three days; 
after which the reformation will be as natural and easy as 
the present irregularity; for ce nPest que le premier pas qui 
coute. Oblige a man to rise at four in the morning, and 
it is more than probable he shall go willingly to bed at eight 
in the evening; and having had eight hours sleep, he will 
rise more willingly at four the following morning. But this 
sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres 
is not the whole of what may be saved by my economical 
project. You may observe, that I have calculated upon 
only one half of the year, and much may be saved in the 
other, though the days are shorter. Besides, the immense 
stock of wax and tallow left unconsumed during the sum- 
mer, will probably make candles much cheaper for the en- 
suing winter, and continue cheaper as long as the proposed 
reformation shall be supported. 

For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely com- 
municated and bestowed by me on the public, I demand 
neither place, pension, exclusive privilege, or any other 
reward whatever. I expect only to have the honor of it. 
And yet I know there are little envious minds who will, as 
usual, deny me this, and say, that my invention was known 
to the ancients, and perhaps they may bring passages out 
of the old books in proof of it. I will not dispute with 
these people that the ancients knew that the sun would rise 
at certain hours ; they possibly had, as we have, almanacs 
that predicted it : but it does not follow from thence, that 
they knew he gave light as soon as lie rose. This is what 



196 ESSAYS. 

I claim as my discovery. If the ancients knew it, it must 
have been long since forgotten, for it certainly was unknown 
to the moderns, at least to the Parisians; which to prove, 
I need use but one plain, simple argument: They are as 
well instructed, judicious, and pni lent a people as exist 
any where in the world, all professing, like myself, to be 
lovers of economy; and, from the many heavy taxes re- 
quired from them by the necessities of the state, have sure- 
ly reason to be economical. I say, it is impossible that so 
sensible a people, under such circumstances, should have 
lived so long by the smoky, unwholesome, and enormously 
expensive light of candles, if they had really known that 
they might have had as much pure light of the sun for noth- 
ing. I am, &c 

AN ABONNE. 



SKETCH OF AN ENGLISH SCHOOL. 

FOR THE CONSIDERATION OF THE TRUSTEES OF THE 
PHILADELPHIA ACADEMY. 

It is expected that every scholar to be admitted into this 
school be at least able to pronounce and divide the syllables 
in reading, and to write a legible hand. None to be receiv- 
ed that are under — years of age. 

FIRST, OR LOWEST CLASS. \ 

Let the first class learn the English Grammar rules, and 
at the same time let particular care be taken to improve 
them in orthography. Perhaps the latter is best done by 
pairing the scholars; two of those nearest equal in their 
spelling to be put together. Let these strive for victory ; each 
propounding ten words every day to the other to be spelled. 
He that spells truly most of the other's words, is victor for 
that day : he that is victor most days in a month, to obtain 
a prize, a pretty neat book of some kind, useful in their fu- 
ture studies. This method fixes the attention of children 
extremely to the orthography of words, and nlakes them 
good spellers very early. It is a shame for a man to be so 



ESSAYS. 197 

ignorant of this little art, in his own language, as to be per- 
petually confounding words of like sound and different sig 1 
nincations ; the consciousness of which defect makes some 
men^ otherwise of good learning and understanding, averse 
to writing even a common letter. 

Let the pieces read by the scholars in this class be short; 
such as Croxall's "Fables, and little stones. In giving the 
lesson, let it be read to them ; let the meaning of the diffi- 
cult words in it be explained to them : and let the^m con it 
over by themselves before they are called to read to the 
master or usher; who is to take particular care that they do 
not read too fast, and that they duly observe the stops and 
pauses. A vocabulary of the most usual difficult words 
might be formed for their use, with explanations; and they 
might daily get a few of those words and explanations by 
heart, which would a little exercise their memories; or at 
least they might write a number of them in a small book 
for the purpose, which would help to fix the meaning of 
those words in their minds, and at the same time furnish 
every one with a little dictionary for his future use. 

SECOND CLASS 

1 To be taught reading with attention, and with proper 
modulations of the voice, according to the sentiment and 
the subject. 

Some short pieces, not exceeding the length of a Specta- 
tor, to be given this class for lessons (and some of the easier 
Spectators would be very suitable for the purpose.) These 
lessons might be given every night as tasks; the scholars to 
study them against the morning. Let it then be required 
of them to give an account, first of the parts of speech, 
and construction of one or two sentences. This will oblige 
them to recur frequently to their grammar, and fix its prin- 
cipal rules in their memory. Next, of the intention of the 
writer, or the scope of the piece, the meaning of each sen- 
tence and of every uncommon word. This would early ac- 
quaint them with the meaning and force of words, and 
give them that most necessary habit of reading with at- 
tention. 

The master then to read the piece with the proper modu- 
lations of voice, due emphasis, and suitable action, where 
17* 



198 ESSAYS. 

action is required ; and put the youth on imitating his man- 
ner. 

Where the author has used an expression not the best, let 
it be pointed out ; and let his beauties be particularly re- 
marked to the youth. 

Let the lessons for reading be varied, that the youth may 
be made acquainted with good styles of all kinds in prose 
and verse, and the proper manner of reading each kind — 
sometimes a well-told story, a piece of a sermon, a gene- 
ral's speech to his soldiers, a speech in a tragedy, some part 
of a comedy, an ode, a satire, a letter, blank verse, Hu- 
dibrastic, heroic, &c. But let such lessons be chosen for 
reading as contain some useful instruction, whereby the un- 
derstanding or morals of the youth may at the same time be 
improved. 

It is required that they should first study and understand 
the lessons, before they are put upon reading them proper- 
ly; to which end each boy should have an English diction- 
ary, to help him over difficulties. When our boys read 
English to us, we are apt to imagine they understand what 
they read, because we do, and because it is their mother- 
tongue. But they often read, as parrots speak, knowing 
little or nothing of the meaning. And it is impossible a 
reader should give the due modulation to his voice, and pro- 
nounce properly, unless his understanding goes before his 
tongue, and makes him master of the sentiment. Accus- 
toming boys to read aloud what they do not first understand 
is the cause of those even set tones so common among read- 
ers, which, when they have once got a habit of using, they 
find so difficult to correct; by which means, among fifty 
readers we scarcely find a good one-. For want of good 
reading, pieces published with a view to influence the minds 
of men, for their own or the public benefit, lose half their 
force. Were there but one good reader in a neighborhood, 
a public orator might be heard throughout a nation with the 
same advantages, and have the same effect upon his audi- 
ence as if they stood within the reach of his voice. 

THIRD CLASS. 

To be taught speaking properly and gracefully ; which is 
near akin to good reading, and naturally follows it in the 



ESSAYS. 199 

studies of youth. Let the scholars of this class begin with 
learning the elements of rhetoric from some short system, so 
as to be able to give an account of the most useful tropes 
and figures. Let all their bad habits of speaking, all offen- 
ces against good grammar, all corrupt or foreign accents, 
and all improper phrases be pointed out to them. Short 
speeches from the Roman or other history, or from the par- 
liamentary debates, might be got by heart, and delivered 
with the proper action, &c. Speeches and scenes in our 
best tragedies and comedies (avoiding every thing that could 
injure the morals of youth) might likewise be got by rote, 
and the boys exercised in delivering or acting them ; great 
care being taken to form their manner after the truest 
models. 

For their farther improvement, and a little to vary their 
studies, let them now begin to read history, after having got 
by heart a short table of the principal epochas in chronolo- 
gy. They may begin with Rollin's Ancient and Roman 
Histories, and proceed at proper hours, as they go through 
the subsequent classes, with the best histories of our own 
nation and colonies. Let emulation be excited among the 
boys, by giving, weekl}', little prizes, or other small en- 
couragements to those who are able to give the best account 
of \Vhat they have read, as to times, places, names of per- 
sons, &c. This will make them read with attention, and 
imprint the history well in their memories. In remarking 
on the history, the master will have fine opportunities of in- 
stilling instruction of various kinds, and improving the mor- 
als, as well as the understandings, of youth. 

The natural and mechanic history, contained in the 
Spectacle de la Nature, might also be begun in this class, 
and continued through the subsequent classes, by other 
books of the same kind ; for, next to the knowledge of duty, 
this kind of knowledge is certainly the most useful, as well 
as the most entertaining. The merchant may thereby be 
enabled better to understand many commodities in trade; 
the handicraftsman to improve his business by new instru- 
ments, mixtures, and materials, and frequently hints are 
given for new methods of improving land, that may be set 
on foot greatly to the advantage of a country. 



200 ESSAYS. 

FOURTH CLAP?. 

To be taught composition. Writing one's own language 
well is the next necessary accomplishment after good speak- 
ing. It is the writing-master's business to take care that the 
boys make fair characters, and place them straight and even 
in the lines : but to form their style, and even to take care 
that 1 the stops and capitals are properly disposed, is the part 
of the English master. The boys should be put oil writing 
letters to each other on any common occurrences, and on 
various subjects, imaginary business, &c. containing little 
stories, accounts of their late reading, what parts of authors 
please them, and why ; letters of congratulation, of com- 
pliment, of request, of thanks, of recommendation, of 
admonition, of consolation, of expostulation, excuse, &c. 
In these they should be taught to express themselves clearly, 
concisely, and naturally, without affected words or high- 
flown phrases. All their letters to pass through the master's 
hand, who is to point out the faults, advise the corrections, 
and commend what he finds right. Some of the best letters 
published in their own language, as Sir William Temple's, 
those of Pope and his friends, and some others, might be 
set before the youth as models, their beauties pointed out 
and explained by the master, the letters themselves tran- 
scribed by the scholar. 

Dr. Johnson's Ethices Elemcnta, or First Principles of 
Morality, may now be read by the scholars, and explained 
by the master, to lay a solid foundation of virtue and piety 
in their minds. And as this class continues the reading of 
history, let them now, at proper hours, receive some farther 
instruction in chronology and in that part of geography 
(from the mathematical master) which is necessary to un- 
derstand the maps and globes. They should also be ac- 
quainted with the modern names of the places they find 
mentioned in ancient writers. The exercises of good 
reading, and proper speaking, still continued at suitable 
times. 



FIFTH CLASS. 

To improve the youth in composition, they may now, be- 
sides continuing {p write letters, begin to write little essays 



ESSAYS. 801 

in prose, and sometimes in verse ; not to make them poets, 
but for this reason, that nothing acquaints a lad so speedily 
with a variety of expression, as the necessity of finding 
such words and phrases as will suit the measure, sound, and 
rhyme of verse, and at the same time will express the senti- 
ment. These essays should all pass under the master's eye, 
who will point out their faults, and put the writer on cor- 
recting them. Where the judgment is not ripe enough for 
forming new essays, let the sentiments of a Spectator be 
given, and required to be clothed in the scholar's own 
words; or the circumstances of some good story : the scholar 
to find expression. Let them be put sometimes on abridg- 
ing a paragraph of a diffuse .author : sometimes on dilating 
or amplifying what is wrote more closely* And now let 
Dr. Johnson's Noetica, or First Principles of Human 
Knowledge, containing a logic, or art of reasoning, &c. be 
read by the youth, and the difficulties that may occur to 
them be explained by the master. The reading of history, 
and the exercise of good reading and just speaking, still 
continued. 

SIXTH CLASS. 

In this class, besides continuing the studies of the preced- 
ing in history, rhetoric, logic, moral and natural philoso- 
phy, the best English authors may be read and explained ; 
as Tillotson, Milton, Locke, Addison, Pope, Swift, the 
higher papers in the Spectator and Guardian, the best 
translations of Homer, Virgil, and Horace, of Telema- 
chus, Travels of Cyrus, &c. 

Once a year let there be public exercises in the hall ; the 
trustees and citizens present. Then let fine gilt books be 
given as prizes to such boys as distinguish themselves, and 
excel the others in any branch of learning, making three de- 
grees of comparison ; giving the best prize to him that per- 
forms best, a less valuable one to him that comes up next 
to the best; and another to the third. Commendations, en- 
couragement, and advice to the rest, keeping up their 
hopes, that, by industry, they may excel another time. 
The names of those that obtain the prize to be yearly print- 
ed in a list. 

The hours of each dav are to be divided and disposed in 

12 



202 ESSAYS. 

such a manner as that some classes may be with the writing 
master, improving their hands, others with the mathematical 
master, learning arithmetic, accounts, geography, use of 
the globes, drawing, mechanics, &c. ; while the rest are 
in the English school, under the English master's care. 

Thus instructed, youth will come out of this school fitted 
for learning any business, calling, or profession, except in 
such wherein languages are required ; and though unac- 
quainted with any ancient or foreign tongue, they will be 
masters of their own, which is of more immediate and gen- 
eral use; and withal, will have attained many other valu- 
able accomplishments: the time usually spent in acquiring 
those languages, often wilhout success, being here employed 
in laying such a foundation of knowledge and ability, as, 
properly improved, may qualify them to pass through and 
execute the several offices of civil life, with advantage and 
reputation to themselves and country. ' 



MODERN INNOVATIONS IN THE ENGLISH 
LANGUAGE AND IN PRINTING. 

TO NOAH WEBSTER, JUN. ESQ. AT HARTFORD. 

Philadelphia, Dec. 26, 1789. 

DEAR SIR, 

I received some time since your Dissertation on the 
English Language. It is an excellent work, and will be 
greatly useful in turning the thoughts of our countrymen to 
correct writing. Please to accept my thanks for it, as well 
as for the great honor you have done me in its dedication. 
I ought to have made this acknowledgment sooner, but 
much indisposition prevented me. 

I cannot but applaud your zeal for preserving the purity 
of our language both in its expression and pronunciation, 
and in correcting the popular errors several of our states are 



ESSAYS. 203 

continually falling into with respect to both. Give me 
leave to mention some of them, though possibly they may 
have already occurred to you. I wish, however, that in, 
some future publication of yours, you would set a discoun- 
tenancing mark upon them. The first I remember, is the 
word improved. When I left New England in the year 
1723, this word had never been used among us, as far as I 
know, but in the sense of ameliorated or made better, ex- 
cept once in a very old book of Dr. Mather's, entitled, 
"Remarkable Providences." As that man wrote a very 
obscure hand, I remember that when I read that word in 
his book, used instead of the word employed, I conjectured 
that it was an error of the printer, who had mistaken a 
short I in the writing for an r, and a y with too short a tail 
for a v, whereby employed was converted into improved: but 
when I returned to Boston in 1733, 1 found this change had 
obtained favor, and was then become common ; for I met 
with it often in perusing the newspapers, where it frequently 
made an appearance rather ridiculous. Such, for instance, as 
the advertisement of a country house, which had been many 
years improved as a tavern; and, in the character of a 
deceased country gentleman, that he had been for more than 
thirty years, improved as a justice of peace. This use of the 
word improve is peculiar to New England, and not to be 
met with among any other speakers of English, either on 
this or the other side of the water. 

During my late absence in France, I find that several 
other new words have been introduced into our parliamen- 
tary language. For example, I find a verb formed from 
the substantive notice. I should not have noticed this^ 
were it not that the gentleman, &c. Aiso another verb 
from the substantive advocate : The gentleman who ad- 
vocates, or who has advocated that motion, kc. Another 
from the substantive progress, the most awkward and abom- 
inable of the three : The committee having progressed, 
resolved to adjourn. The word opposed, though not a new 
word, I find used in a new manner, as, The gentlemen 
who are opposed to this measure, to which I have also my- 
self always been opposed. If you should happen to be of 
my opinion, with respect to those innovations, you will use 
your authority in reprobating them. 

The Latin language, long the vehicle used in distributing 



204 ESSAYS. 

knowledge among the different nations of Europe, is daily 
more and more neglected ; and one of the modern tongues, 
viz: French, seems, in point of universality, to have sup- 
plied its place. It is spoken in all the courts of Europe; 
and most of the literati, those even who do not speak it, 
have acquired a knowledge of it, to enable them easily to 
read the books' that are written in it. This gives a consider- 
able advantage to that nation. It enables its authors to in- 
culcate and spread through other nations such sentiments 
and opinions, on important points, as are most conducive 
to its interests, or which may contribute to its reputation, by- 
promoting the common interests of mankind. It is, perhaps, 
owing to its being written in French, that Voltaire's Trea- 
tise on Toleration has had so sudden and so great an effect 
on the bigotry of Europe, as almost entirely to disarm it. 
The general use of the French language has likewise a very 
advantageous effect on the profits of the bookselling branch 
of commerce ; it being well known, that the more copies 
can be sold that are struck off from one composition of 
types, the profits increase in a much greater proportion than 
they do in making a greater number of pieces in any other 
kind of manufacture. And at present there is no capital 
town in Europe without a French bookseller's shop corre- 
sponding with Paris. Our English bkls fair to obtain the 
second place. The great body of excellent printed sermons 
in our language, and the freedom of our writings on politi- 
cal subjects, have induced a great number of divines, of dif- 
ferent sects and nations, as well as gentlemen concerned in 
public affairs, to study it so far at least as to read it. And 
if we were to endeavor the facilitating its progress, the 
study of our tongue might become much more general. 
Those who have employed some part of their time in learn- 
ing a new language, must have frequently observed, that 
while their acquaintance with it was imperfect, difficulties, 
small in themselves, have operated as great ones in obstruct- 
ing their progress. A book, for example, ill printed, or a 
pronunciation in speaking not well articulated, would ren- 
der a sentence unintelligible, which from a clear print or a 
distinct speaker would have been immediately comprehend- 
ed. If, therefore, we would have the benefit of seeing our 
language more generally known among mankind, we should 
endeavor to remove all the difficulties, however small, that 



ESSAYS. 205 

discourage the learning of it. But I am sorry to observe 
that, of late years, those difficulties, instead of being 
diminished, have been augmented. 

In examining the English books that were printed be- 
tween the Restoration and the accession of George the Se- 
cond, we may observe, that all substantives were begun 
with a capital, in which we imitated our mother-tongue, 
the German. This was more particularly useful to those 
who were not well acquainted with the English, there being 
such a prodigious number of our words that are bGth verbs 
and substantives, and spelt in the same manner, though 
often accented differently in pronunciation. This method 
has, by the fancy of printers of late years, been entirely 
laid aside; from an idea, that suppressing the capitals 
shows the character to greater advantage ; those letters, 
promi/ent above the line, disturbing its even, regular ap- 
pearance. The effect of this change is so considerable, 
that a learned man of France, who used to read our books, 
though not perfectly acquainted with our language, in con- 
versation with me on the subject of our authors, attributed 
the greater obscurity he found in our modern books, com- 
pared with those of the period above mentioned, to a 
change of style for the worse in our writers; of which mis- 
take I convinced him, by marking for him each substantive 
with a capital, in a paragraph, which he then easily under- 
stood, though before he could not comprehend it. This 
shows the inconvenience of that pretended improvement. 

From the same fondness for a uniform and even appear- 
ance of characters in a line, the printers have of late ban- 
ished also the Italic types, in which words of importance 
to be attended to in the sense of the sentence, and words on 
which an emphasis should be put in reading, used to be 
printed. And lately another fancy has induced other print- 
ers to use the round s instead of the long one, which form- 
erly served well to distinguish a word readily by its varied 
appearance. Certainly the omitting the prominent letter 
makes a line appear more even, but renders it less imme- 
diately legible; as the paring off all men's noses might 
smooth their features, but would render their physiognomies 
less distinguishable. Add to all these improvements back- 
wards, another modern fancy, that gray printing is more 
beautiful than black. Hence the English new books are 
18 



206 ESSAYS. 

printed in so dim a character as to be read with difficulty 
by old eyes, unless in a very strong light, and with good 
glasses. Whoever compares a volume of the Gentleman's 
Magazine printed between the years 1731 and 1740, with 
one of those printed in the last ten years, will be convinced 
of the much greater degree of perspicuity given by the black 
than by the gray. Lord Chesterfield pleasantly remarked 
this difference to Faulkener, the printer of the Dublin Jour- 
nal, who was vainly making encomiums on his own paper 
as the most complete of any in the world. "But, Mr. 
Faulkener," says my Lord, "don't you think it might be 
still farther improved, by using paper and ink not quite so 
near of a color?" — For all these reasons I cannot but wish 
our American primers would, in then; editions, avoid these 
fancied improvements, and thereby render their works more 
agreeable to foreigners in Europe, to the great advantage of 
our bookselling commerce. 

Further, to be more sensible of the advantage of clea. 
and distinct printing, let us consider the assistance it affords 
in reading well aloud to an auditory. In so doing the eye 
generally slides forward three or four words before the 
voice. If the sight clearly distinguishes what the coming 
words are, it gives time to order the modulation of the voice 
to express them properly. But if they are obscurely print- 
ed, or disguised by omitting the capitals or long /' s, or 
otherwise, the reader is apt to modulate wrong; and, finding 
he has done so, he is obliged to go back and begin the sen- 
tence again; which lessens the pleasure of the hearers. 
This leads me to mention an old error in our mode of print- 
ing. We are sensible, that when a question is met with in 
the reading there is a proper variation to be used in the man- 
agement of the voice : we have, therefore, a point called an 
interrogation affixed to the question, to distinguish it. But 
this is absurdly placed at its end, so that the reader does 
not discover it till he finds that he was wrongly modulating 
his voice, and is therefore obliged to begin again the sen- 
tence. To prevent this, the Spanish printers, more sensi- 
bly, place an interrogation at the beginning as well as at 
the end of the question. We have another error of the 
same kind in printing plays, where something often occurs 
that is marked as spoken aside. But the word aside is 
placed at the end of the speech, when it ought to precede 



ESSAYS. 207 

it, as a direction to the reader, that he may govern his 
voice accordingly. The practice of our ladies, in meeting 
five or six together, to form little busy parties, where each 
is employed in some useful work, while one reads to them, 
is so commendable in itself, that it deserves the attention of 
authors and printers to make it as pleasing as possible, both 
to the reader and hearers. 

My best wishes attend you, being with sincere esteem, 

SIR, 
Your most obedient and 

Very humble servant, 

B. FRANKLIN. 



AN ACCOUNT 

OP THE HIGHEST COURT OF JUDICATURE IN PENN- 
SYLVANIA, VIZ: 

THE COURT OF THE PRESS. 

POWER OF THIS COURT. 

It may receive and promulgate accusations of all kinds r . 
against all persons, and characters among the citizens of the 
state, and against all inferior courts; and may judge, sen- 
tence, and condemn to infamy, not only private individuals, 
but public bodies, &c. with or without inquiry or hearing, at 
the court's discretion. 



WHOSE FAVOR, OR FOR WHOSE EMOLUMENT THIS 
COURT IS ESTABLISHED. 

In favor of about one citizen in five hundred, who by ed- 
ucation, or practice in scribbling, has acquired a tolerable 
style as to grammar and construction, so as to bear printing; 
or who is possessed of a press and a few types. This five 
hundredth part of the citizens have the liberty of accusing 



208 ESSAYS. 

and abusing the other four hundred and ninety-nine parts at 
their pleasure; or th^y may hire out their pens and press to 
others, for that purpose. 

PRACTICE OF THIS COURT. 

It is not governed by any of the rules of the common 
courts of law. The accused is allowed no grand jury to 
judge of the truth of the accusation before it is publicly 
made; nor is the name of the accuser made known to him, 
nor has he an opportunity of confronting the witnesses 
against him, for they are kept in the dark, as in the Spanish 
court of inquisition. Nor is there any petty jury of his 
peers sworn to try the truth of the charges. The proceed- 
ings are also sometimes so rapid that an honest good citizen 
may find himself suddenly and unexpectedly accused, and 
in the same moment judged and condemned, and sentence 
pronounced against him that he is a rogue and a villain. 
Yet if an officer of this court receive the slightest check 
for misconduct in this his office, he claims immediately the 
rights of a free citizen by the constitution, and demands to 
know his accuser, to confront the witnesses, and have a 
fair trial by a jury of his peers. 

THE FOUNDATION OF ITS AUTHORITY. 

It is said to be founded on an article in the state constitu- 
tion, which establishes the liberty of the press— a liberty 
which every Pennsylvanian would fight and die for, 
though few of us, I believe, have distinct ideas of its na- 
ture and extent. It seems, indeed, somewhat like the lib- 
erty of the press, that felons have, by the common law of 
England before conviction ; that is, to be either pressed to 
death or hanged. If by the liberty of the press, we under- 
stood merely the liberty of discussing the propriety of public 
measures and political opinions, let us have as much of it 
as you please; but if it means the liberty of affronting, 
calumniating, and defaming one another, I, for my part, 
own myself willing to part with my share of it, whenever 
our legislature shall please to alter the law; and shall cheer- 
fully consent to exchange my liberty of abusing others, for 
the privilege of not being abused myself. 



ESSAYS. 200 

BY WHOM THIS COURT IS COMMISSIONED OR CON- 
STITUTED. 

It is not by any commission from the supreme executive 
council, who might previously judge of the abilities, integ- 
rity, knowledge, &c. of the persons to be appointed to this 
great trust, of deciding upon the characters and good fame 
of the citizens : for this court is above that council, and may 
accuse, judge, and condemn it at pleasure. Nor is it here- 
ditary, as is the court of dernier resort in the peerage of 
England. But any man who can procure pen, ink, and 
paper, with a press, a iew types, and a huge pair of black- 
ing balls, may commissionate himself, and his court is im- 
mediately established in the plenary possession and exercise 
of its rights ; for if you make the least complaint of the 
judge's conduct, he daubs his blacking balls in your face 
wherever he meets you : and besides tearing your private 
character to splinters, marks you out for the odium of the 
public, as an enemy to the liberty of the press. 

OF THE NATURAL SUPPORT OP THIS COURT. 

Its support is founded in the depravity of such minds as 
have not been mended by religion, nor improved by good 
education. 



Hence 



There is a lust in man no charm can tame, 
Of loudly publishing his neighbor's shame. 



On eagle's wings immortal scandals fly, 
While virtuous actions are but born and die. 

DRYDEN* 



Whoever feels pain in heading a good character of hig 
neighbor, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. And of those 
who, despairing to rise in distinction by their virtues, are 
happy if others can be depressed to a level with themselves, 
there are a number sufficient in every great town to maintain 
one of these courts by subscription. A shrewd observer once 
said, that in walking the streets of a slippery morning, one 
might see where the good-natured people lived, by the ashes 
thrown on the ice before the doors : probably he would have 
formed a different conjecture of the temper of those whom 
he might find engaged in such subscriptions. 
18* 



210 ESSAYS. 

OF THE CHECKS rBOPER TO PE ESTABLISHED 

AGAINST THE ABUSES OF POWER 

IN THOSE COURTS. 

Hitherto there are none. But since so mucn has been 
written and published on the federal constitution; and the 
necessity of checks, in all parts of good government, has 
been so clearly and learnedly explained, I find myself so 
far enlightened as to suspect some check may be proper in 
this part also : but I have been at a loss to imagine any 
that may not be construed an infringement of the sacred 
liberty of the press. At length, however, I think I have 
found one that, instead of diminishing general liberty, shall 
augment it ; which is, by restoring to the people a species of 
liberty, of winch they have been deprived by our laws — I 
mean the liberty of the cudgel ! In the rude state of society, 
prior to the existence of laws, if one man gave another ill 
language, the affronted person might return it by a box on 
the ear; and, if repeated, by a good drubbing; and this 
without offending against any law : but now the right of 
making such returns is denied, and they are punished as 
breaches of the peace, while the right of abusing seems to 
remain in full force ; the laws made against it being ren- 
dered ineffectual by the liberty of the press. 

My proposal then is, to leave the liberty of the press un- 
touched, to be exercised in its full extent, force, and vigor, 
but to permit the liberty of the cudgel to go with it, pari 
passu. Thus, my fellow-citizens, if an impudent writer at- 
tacks your reputation — dearer perhaps to you than your 
life, and puts his name to the charge, you may go to him as 
openly, and break his head. If he conceals himself behind 
the printer, and you can nevertheless discover who he is, 
you may, in like manner, waylay him in the night, attack 
him behind, and give him a good drubbing. If your adver- 
sary hires better writers than himself to abuse you more ef- 
fectually, you may hire as many porters, stronger than 
yourself, to assist you in giving him a more effectual drub- 
bing. Thus far goes my project as to private resentment 
and retribution. But if the public should ever happen to 
be affronted, as it ought to be, with the conduct of such 
writers, I would not advise proceeding immediately to 



ESSAYS. 211 

these extremities, but that we should in moderation content 
ourselves with tarring and feathering, and tossing in a 
blanket. 

If, however, it should be thought, that this proposal of 
mine may disturb the public peace, I would then humbly 
recommend to our legislators to take up the consideration of 
both liberties, that of the press, and that of the cudgel; 
and by an explicit law mark their extent and limits: and at 
the same time that they secure the person of a citizen from 
assaults, they would likewise provide for the security of his 
reputation. 



PAPER. 



A POEM. 



Some wit of old — such wits of old there were — 
Whose hints show'd meaning, whose allusions care, 
By one brave stroke to mark all human kind, 
Call'd clear blank paper every infant mind ; 
Where still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, 
Fair virtue put a seal, or vice a blot. 

The thought was happy, pertinent, and true ; 
Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. 
I (can you pardon my presumption ?) I — 
No wit, no genius, yet for once will try. 

Various the papers various wants produce, 
The wants of fashion, elegance, and use. 
Men are as various ; and if right I scan, 
Each sort of paper represents some man- 
Pray note the fop — half powder and half lace, 
Nice as a band-box were his dwelling-place : 
He's the gilt paper, which apart you store, 
And lock from vulgar hands in the 'scrutoire. 



219 ESSAYS. 

Mechanic?, servant?, fanner?, and so forth, 
Are copy paper, of inferior worth; 
Less prized, more useful, for your desk decreed, 
Free to all pens, and prompt at every need. 

The wretch, whom avarice bids to pinch and spare, 
Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, 
Ts coarse brownpaper ; such as pedters choose 
To wrap up wares, which better men will use. 

Take next the miser's contrast, who destroys 
Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys. 
Will any paper match him? Yes, throughout, 
He's a true sinking paper, past all doubt. 

The retail politician's anxious thought 

Deems this side always right, and that stark nought, 

He foams with censure; with applause lie raves — 

A dupe to rumors, and a tool of knaves; 

He'll want no type his weakness to proclaim. 

While such a thing as fools-cap has a name. 

The hasty gentleman, whose blood runs high, 
Who picks a quarrel, if you step awry, 
Who can't a jest, or hint, or look endure : 
What is he? What? Touch-paper, to be sure. 

What are our poets, take them as they fall, 
Good, bad, rich, poor, much read, not read at all 1 ? 
Them and their works in the same class yoiril find ; 
They are the mere waste-paper of mankind. 

Observe the maiden, innocently sweet, 
She's fair white paper, an unsullied sheet; 
On which the happy man, whom fate ordains, 
May write bis name, and take her for his pains. 

One instance more, and only one I'll bring; 

'Tis the great man who scorns a little thing, 

Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are his o\rri| 

Form'd on the feelings of his heart alone • 

True genuine royal paper is his breast; 

Of all the kinds most precious, purest, best. 



ESSAYS. 213 

ON THE ART OF SWIMMING. 

IN ANSWER TO SOME INQUIRIES OF M. DUBOURS * 
ON THE SUBJECT. 

I am apprehensive that I shall not be able to find leisure 
for making all the disquisitions and experiments which 
would be desirable on this subject. I must, therefore, con- 
tent myself with a few remarks. 

The specific gravity of some human bodies, in compari- 
son to that of water, has been examined by M. Robinson, 
in our Philosophical Transactions, vol. 50, page 30, for the 
year 1757. He asserts that fat persons with small bones 
float most easily upon water. 

The diving bell is accurately described in our Transac- 
tions. 

When I was a boy, I made two oval pallets, each about 
ten inches long, and six broad, with a hole for the thumb, 
in order to retain it fast in the palm of my hand. They 
much resembled a painter's pallets. In swimming, I pushed 
the edges of these forward, and I struck the water with their 
flat surfaces as I drew them back: I remember I swam 
faster by means of these pallets, but they fatigued my wrists. 
I also fitted to the soles of my feet a kind of sandals ; but 
I was not satisfied with them, because I observed that the 
stroke is partly given' by the inside of the feet and the an- 
kles, and not entirely with the soles ef the feet. 

We have here waistcoats for swimming, which are made 
•of double sailcloth, with small pieces of cork quilted in be- 
tween it. 

I know nothing of the scaphandre of M.,de la Chapelle. 

I know by experience,, that it is a great comfort to a 
swimmer, who has a considerable distance to go, to turn 
himself sometimes on his back, and to vary in other respects 
the means of procuring a progressive motion. 

When he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the method 
-of driving it away is to give to the parts affected a sudden, 
vigorous, and violent shock ; which he may do in the air as 
he swims on his back. 

During the great heats of summer, there is no danger ia 

* Translator of Dr. Franklin's Works into French 



214 ESSAYS. 

bathing, however warm we may be, in rivers which have 
been thoroughly warmed by the sun. But to throw one's self 
into cold spring water, when the body has been heated by 
exercise in the sun, is an imprudence which may prove fatal. 
I once knew an instance of four young men, who, having 
worked at harvest in the heat of the day, with a view of 
refreshing themselves, plunged into a spring of cold water: 
two died upon the spot, a third the next morning, and the 
fourth recovered with great difficulty. A copious draught 
of cold water, in similar circumstances, is frequently atten- 
ded with the same effect in North America. 

The exercise of swimming is one of the most healthy and 
agreeable in the world. After having swam for an hour or 
two in the evening, one sleeps coolly the whole night, even 
during the most ardent heat of summer. Perhaps the pore9 
being cleansed, the insensible perspiration increases, and 
occasions this coolness. It is certain that much swimming 
is the means of stopping a diarrhoea, and even of producing 
a constipation. With respect to those who do not know 
how to swim, or who are affected with a diarrhoea at a sea- 
son which does not permit them to use that exercise, a warm 
bath, by cleansing and purifying the skin, is found very sal- 
utary, and often effects a radical cure. I speak from my 
own experience, frequently repeated, and that of others, to 
whom 1 have recommended this. 

Yau will not be displeased if I conclude these hasty re- 
marks by informing you, that as the ordinary method of 
swimming is reduced to the act of rowing-with the arms and 
legs, and is consequently a laborious and fatiguing opera- 
tion when the space of water to be crossed is considerable; 
there is a method in which a swimmer may pass to great 
distances with much facility, by means of a sail. This dis- 
covery I fortunately made by accident, and in the following 
manner: 

When I was a bo) r , I amused myself one day with flying 
a paper kite; and, approaching the back of a pond, which 
was near a mile broad, I tied the string to a stake, and the 
kite ascended to a very considerable height above the pond, 
while I was swimming. In a little time, being desirous of 
amusing myself with my kite, and enjoying at the same 
time the pleasure of swimming, I returned, and loosing 
from the stake the string with the little stick which vyas fast- 



ESSAYS. 215 

ened to it, went again into the water, where I found, that$ 
lying on my back, and holding the stick in my hands, I 
was drawn along the surface of the water in a very agree- 
able manner. Having then engaged another boy to carry 
my clothes round the pond, to a place which I pointed out 
to him, on the other side, I began to cross the pond with 
my kite, which carried me quite over without the least 
fatigue, and with the greatest pleasure imaginable. T was 
only obliged occasionally to halt a little in my course, and 
resist its progress, when it appeared that, by following too 
quick, I lowered the kite too much ; by doing which occa- 
sionally I made it rise again. I have never since that time 
practised this singular mode of swimming, though I think it 
not impossible to cross in this manner from Dover to Calais^ 
The packet-boat, however, is still preferable. 



NEW MODE OF BATHING. 
EXTRACTS OF LETTERS TO M. DUBOTJR&. 

London, July 28, 17G8. 

I greatly approve the epithet which you give, in your 
letter of the 8th of June, to the new method of treating 
the small-pox, which you call the tonic or bracing method ; 
I will take occasion, from it, to mention a practice to 
which I have accustomed myself. You know the cold bath 
has long been in vogue here as a tonic : but the shock of the 
cold water hath always appeared to me, generally speaking, 
as too violent, and I have found it much more agreeable to 
my constitution to bathe in another element— I mean cold 
air. With this view I rise earl) r almost every morning, and 
sit in my chamber without any clothe^ whatever^ half an 
hour or an hour, according to the season, either reading or 
writing. This practice is not the least painful, but, on the 
contrary, agreeable ; and if I return to bed afterwards, be- 
fore I dress myself, as it sometimes happens, I make a sup- 
plement to my night's rest of one or two hours of the most 
pleasing sleep that can be imagined. I find no ill conse- 
quences whatever resulting from it, and that at least it does 



216 ESSAYS. 

not injure my health, if it docs not in fact contribute to its 
preservation. I shall therefore call it for the future a 
bracing or tonic bath. 

March 10, 1773. 

I shall not attempt to explain why damp clothes occa- 
sion colds, rather than wet ones, because I doubt the fact; 
I imagine that neither the one nor the other contributes to 
this effect, and that the causes of colds are totally independ- 
ent of wet, and even of cold. I propose writing a short pa- 
per on this subject, the first moment of leisure 1 have at my 
disposal. In the mean time, 1 can only say, that having 
some suspicions that the common notion, which attributes to 
cold the property of stopping the pores and obstructing per- 
spiration, was ill founded, I engaged a young physician, who 
is making some experiments with Sanctorius's balance, to 
estimate the different proportions of his perspiration, when 
remaining one hour quite naked, and another warmly cloth- 
ed. He pursued the experiment in this alternate manner 
for eight hours successively, and found his perspiration al- 
most double during those hours in which he was naked. 



, OBSERVATIONS 

ON TliE GENERALLY PREVAILING DOCTRINES OP 
LIFE AND DEATH. 

TO THE SAME. 

Your observations on the causes of death, and the expe- 
riments which you propose for recalling to life those who 
appear to be killed by lightning, demonstrate equally your 
sagacity and humauity. It appears that the doctrines of 
life and death, in general", are yet but little understood. 

A toad buried in the sand will live, it is said, until the 
sand becomes petrified ; and then, being inclosed in the 
stone, it may live for we know not how many ages. The 
facts which are cited in support of this opinion are too nu- 
merous and too circumstantial not to deserve a certain de- 
gree of credit. As we are accustomed to see all the animals 



ESSAYS. sir 

with which we are acquainted eat and drink, it appears to ug 
difficult to conceive how a toad can be supported in such a 
dungeon. But if we reflect that the necessity of nourishment, 
which animals experience in their ordinary state, proceed* 
from the continual waste of their substance by perspiration ; 
it will appear less incredible, that some animals in a torpid 
state, perspiring less because they use no exercise, should 
have less need of aliment; and that others, which are cov- 
ered with scales or shells, which stop perspiration, such as 
land and sea turtles, serpents, and some species of fish, 
should be able to subsist a considerable time without any 
nourishment whatever. A plant, with its flowers, fades 
and dies immediately, if exposed to the air without having 
its roots immersed in a humid soil, from which it may draw 
a sufficient quantity of moisture to supply that which ex- 
hales from its substance, and is carried off continually by 
the air. Perhaps, however, if it were buried in quicksilver, 
it might preserve, for a considerable space of time, its vege- 
table life, its smell and color. If this be the case, it might 
prove a commodious method of transporting from distant 
countries those delicate plants which are unable to sustain 
the inclemency of the weather at sea, and which require 
particular care and attention. 

I have seen an instance of common flies preserved in a 
manner somewhat similar. They had been drowned in 
Madeira wine, apparently about the time it had been bot- 
tled in Virginia, to be sent to London. At the opening of 
one of the bottles, at the house of a friend where I was$ 
three drowned flies fell into the first glass that was filled. 
Having heard it remarked that drowned flies were capable 
of being revived by the rays of the sun, I proposed making 
the experiment upon these. The3* were therefore exposed 
to the sun, upon a seive which had been employed to strain 
them out of the wine. In less than three hours, two of 
them by degrees began to recover life. They commenced 
by some convulsive motions in the thighs, and at length they 
raised themselves upon their legs, wiped their eyes with 
their fore feet, beat and brushed their wings with their hind 
feet, and soon after began to fly, finding themselves in Old 
England, without knowing how they came thither. The 
third continued lifeless until sunset, when, losing all hopes 
of him, he was thrown away. 
19 K 



»1& ESSAYS. 

I wish it were possible, from this instance^ to invent a 
method of embalming drowned persons in such a manner 
that they may be recalled to life at any period, however 
distant: for, having a very ardent desire to see and observe 
the state of America a hundred years hence, I should pre- 
fer to an ordinary death, the being immersed in a cask of 
Madeira wine, with a few friends, until that time, then to 
be recalled to life by the solar warmth of my dear country ! 
But since, in all probability, we live in an age too early, and 
too near the infancy of science, to see such an art brought in 
our time to its perfection, I must, for the present, content 
myself with the treat, which you are so kind as to promise 
me, of the resurrection of a fowl or a turkey-cock. 



PRECAUTIONS 

TO BE USED BY THOSE WHO ARE ABOUT TO UN- 
DERTAKE A SEA VOYAGE. 

When you intend to take a long voyage, nothing is bet- 
ter than to keep it a secret till the moment of your depar- 
ture. Without this, you will be continually interrupted and 
tormented by visits from friends and acquaintances, who not 
only make you lose your valuable time, but make you for- 
get a thousand things which you wish to remember ; so that 
when you are embarked and fairly at sea, you recollect, 
with much uneasiness, affairs which you have not termina- 
ted, accounts that you have not settled, and a number of 
things which you proposed to carry with you, and which 
you find the want of every moment. Would it not be atten- 
ded with the best consequences to reform such a custom, 
and to suffer a traveller^ without deranging him, to make 
his preparations in quietness, to set apart a few days, when 
these are finished, to take leave of his friends, and to re- 
ceive their good wishes for his happy return. 

It is not always in one's power to choose a captain ; tho' 
great part of the pleasure and happiness of the passage de- 
pends upon this choice, and though one must for a time be 
confined to his company, and be in some measure under his 
command. If he is a social sensible man, obliging, and of 



ESSAYS. 219 

a good disposition, you will be so much the happier. One 
sometimes meets with people of this description, but they 
are not common ; however, if yours be not of this number, 
if he be a good seaman, attentive, careful, and active in the 
management of his vessel, you must dispense with the rest, 
for these are the most essential qualities. 

Whatever right you may have, by your agreement with 
him to the provisions he has taken on board for the use of 
the passengers, it is always proper to have some private 
store, which you may make use of occasionally. You ought 
therefore to provide good water, that of the ship being oftem 
"bad ; but you must put it in bottles, without which you can- 
not expect to preserve it sweet. You ought also to carry 
with you good tea, ground coffee, chocolate, wine of that 
sort which you like best, cider, dried raisins, almonds, sugar, 
capillaire, citrons, rum, eggs dipped in oiL, portable soup, 
bread twice baked. With regard to poultry, it is almost 
useless to carry any with you, unless you resolve to under- 
take the office of feeding and fattening them yourself. With 
the little care which is taken of them on board a ship, they 
are almost all sickly, and their flesh is as tough as leather. 

All sailors entertain an opinion, which undoubtedly ori- 
ginated formerly from a want of water, and when it has been 
found necessary to be sparing of it, that poultry never know 
when they have drunk enough, and that when water is given 
them at discretion, they generally kill themselves by drink- 
ing beyond measure. In consequence of this opinion, they 
give them water only once in two days, and even then in 
small quantities: but as they pour this water into troughs 
inclining on one side, which occasions it to run to the lower 
part, it thence happens that they are obliged to mount one 
upon the back of another in order to reach it ; and there are 
. 6ome which cannot even dip their beaks imjt. Thus con- 
tinually tantalized and tormented by thirst, they are unable 
to digest their food, which is very dry, and they soon fall 
sick and die. Some of them are found thus every morning, 
and are thrown into the sea; while those Which are killed 
for the table are scarcely fit to be eaten. To remedy this 
inconvenience, it will be necessary to divide their troughs 
into small compartments, in such a manner that each of 
them may be capable of containing water; but this is sel- 
dom or never done. On tins account, sheep and hogs &m 



220 ESSAYS. 

to be considered as ihe best fresh provisions that one can 
have at sea; mutton there being in general very good, and 
pork excellent. ' 

It may happen that some of the provisions and stores, 
which I have recommended, may become almost useless by 
the care which the captain has taken to lay in a proper 
stock : but in such a case you may dispose of it to relieve 
the poor passengers, who, paying less for their passage, are 
stowed among the common sailors, and have no right to the 
captain's provisions, except such part of them as is used for 
feeding the crew. These passengers are sometimes sick, 
melancholy and dejected ; and there are often women and 
children among them, neither of whom have any opportu- 
nity of procuring those things which I have mentioned, and 
of which, perhaps, they have the greatest need. By dis- 
tributing amongst them a part of your superfluity, you may 
be of the greatest assistance to them. You may restore 
their health, save their lives, and in short render them hap- 
py; which always affords the liveliest sensation to a feeling 
mind. 

The most disagreeable thing at sea is the cookery: for 
there is not, properly speaking, any professed cook on board. 
The worst sailor is generally chosen for that purpose, who 
for the most part is equally dirty. Hence comes the proverb 
used among the English sailors, that God sends meat, and 
the Devil sends cooks. Those, however, who have a better 
opinion of Providence will think otherwise. Knowing that 
sea air, and the exercise or motion which they receive from 
the rolling of the ship, have a wonderful effect in whetting 
the appetite, they will say, that Providence has given sai- 
lors bad cooks to prevent them eating too much ; or that, 
knowing they would have bad cooks, he has given them a 
good appetite to prevent them from dying with hunger. How- 
ever, if you have no confidence in these succors of Provi- 
dence, you may yourself, widi a lamp and a boiler, by the 
help of a little spirits of wine, prepare some food, such as 
soup, hash, <fec. A small oven made of tin-plate is not a 
bad piece of furniture; your servant may roast in it a piece 
of mutton or pork. If you are ever tempted to eat salt beef, 
which is often very good, you will find that cider is the best 
liquor to quench the thirst generally caused by salt meat or 
salt fish. Sea biscuit, which is too hard for the teeth of some 



ESSAYS. 221 

people, may be softened by steeping it; but bread double- 
baked is the best: for being made of good loaf bread cut 
into slices, and baked a second time, it readily imbibes wa- 
ter, becomes soft, and is easily digested ; it consequently 
forms excellent nourishment, much superior to that of bis- 
cuit, which has not been fermented. 

I must here observe, that this double-baked bread was 
originally the real biscuit prepared to keep at sea; for the 
word biscuit, in French, signifies twice baked.* Peas often 
boil badly, and do not become soft; in such a case, by put- 
ting a two-pound shot into the kettle, the rolling of the ves- 
sel, by means of this bullet, will convert the peas into a por- 
ridge, like mustard. 

Having often seen soup, when put upon the table at sea 
in broad flat dishes, thrown out on every side by the rolling 
of the vessel, I have wished that our tinmen would make 
our soup-basins with divisions or compartments: forming 
small plates, proper for containing soup for one person only. 
By this disposition the soup, in an extraordinary roll, would 
not be thrown out of the plate, and would not fall into the 
breasts of those who are at table, and scald them. Having 
entertained you with these things of little importance, per- 
mit me now to conclude with some general reflections upon 
navigation. 

When navigation is employed only for transporting ne- 
cessary provisions from one country, where they abound, to 
another where they are wanting; when by this it prevents 
famines, which were so frequent and so fatal before it was 
invented and became so common ; we cannot help consid- 
ering it as one of those arts which contribute most to the 
happiness of mankind. But when it is employed to tran- 
sport things of no utility, or articles of luxury, it is then un- 
certain whether the advantages resulting from it are suffi- 
cient to counterbalance the misfortunes it occasions by ex- 
posing the lives of so many individuals upon the vast ocean. 
And when it is used to plunder vessels and transport slaves, 
it is evidently only the dreadful means of increasing those 
calamities which afflict human nature. 

One is astonished to think on the number of vessels and 
men who are daily exposed in going to bring tea from-Chi- 

* It is derived from bis, again, and cuit, baked. 
19* 



222 ESSAYS. 

na, coffee from Arabia, and sugar and tobacco from Ame- 
rica; all commodities which our ancestors lived very well 
without. The sugar trade employs nearly a thousand ves- 
sels; and that of tobacco almost the same number. With 
regard to the utility of tobacco, little can be said ; and with 
rpgard to sugar, how much more meritorious would it be to 
sacrifice the momentary pleasure which we receive from 
drinking it once or twice a day in our tea, than to encourage 
the numberless cruelties that are continually exercised in 
order to procure it for us? 

A celebrated French moralist said, that, when he con- 
sidered the wars which we foment in Africa to get negroes.; 
the great number who, of course, perish in these wars; the 
multitude of those wretches who die in their passage, by 
disease, bad air, and bad provisions; and lastly, how many 
perish by the cruel treatment they meet with in a state of 
slavery; when he saw a bit of sugar, he could not help im- 
agining it to be covered with spots of human blood. But, 
had he added to these considerations the wars which we 
carry on against one another, to take and retake the islands 
that produce this commodity, he would not have seen the 
sugar simply spotted with blood, he would have beheld it 
entirely tinged with it. 

These wars make the maritime powers of Europe, and 
the inhabitants of Paris and London, pay much dearer for 
their sugar than those of Vienna, though they are almost 
three hundred leagues distant from the sea. A pound of 
sugar, indeed, costs the former not only the price which 
they give for it, but also what they pay in taxes, necessary 
to support the fleets and armies which serve to defend and 
protect the countries that produce it. 



ESSAYS. 233 



ON LUXURY, IDLENESS, AND INDUSTRY. 

FROM A LETTER TO BENJAMIN VAUGHAN, ESCU 
WRITTEN IN 1784. 

It is wonderful how preposterously the affairs of this 
world are managed. Naturally one would imagine that the 
interest of a few individuals should give way to general in- 
terest: but individuals manage their affairs with so much 
more application, industry and address, than the public do 
theirs, that general interest most commonly gives way to 
particular. We assemble parliaments and councils, to have 
the benefit of their collected wisdom ; but we necessarily 
have, at the same time, the inconvenience of their collected 
passions, prejudices and private interests. By the help of 
these, artful men overpower their wisdom, and dupe its pos- 
sessors ; and if we may judge by the acts, arrets, and edicts, 
all the world over, for regulating commerce, an assembly of 
great men is the greatest fools upon earth. 

I have not yet, indeed, thought of a remedy for luxury. 
I am not sure that in a great state it is capable of a remedy ; 
nor that the evil in itself is always so great as is represented. 
Suppose we include in the definition of luxury all unneces- 
sary expense, and then let us consider whether laws to pre- 
vent such expense are possible to be executed in a great 
country, and whether, if they could be executed, our people 
generally would be happier, or even richer. Is not the 
hope of being one day able to purchase and enjoy luxuries a 
great spur to labor and industry ? May not luxury there- 
fore produce more than it consumes, if, without such a spur, 
people would be, as they are naturally enough inclined to 
be, lazy and indolent. To this purpose I remember a cir- 
cumstance. The skipper of a shallop, employed between. 
Cape May and Philadelphia, had done us some small ser- 
vice, for which he refused to be paid. My wife understand- 
ing that he had a daughter, sent her a present of a new- 
fashioned cap. Three years after, this skipper being at my 
house, with an old farmer of Cape May, his passenger, he 

* Member of parliament for the borough of Calne, in Wiltshire, 
between whom and our author there subsisted a very close friend- 
ship. 



224 ESSAYS. 

mentioned the cap, and how much his daughter had been 
pleased with it. " But (said he) it proved a dear cap to our 
congregation." "How so?" "When my daughter ap- 
peared with it at meeting, it was so much admired, that all 
the girls resolved to get such caps from Philadelphia; and 
my wife and I computed that the whole could not have cost 
less than one hundred pounds." " True, (said the farmer) 
but you do not tell all the story. I think the cap was never- 
theless an advantage to us; for it was the first thing that 
put our girls upon knitting worsted mittens for sale at' Phil- 
adelphia, that they might have wherewithal to buy caps and 
ribbons there; and you know that that industry has contin- 
ued, and is likely to continue and increase to a much greater 
value, and answer better purposes." Upon the whole, I 
was more reconciled to this little piece of luxury, since not 
only the girlswere made happier by having fine caps, but the 
Philadelphians by the supply of warm mittens. 

In our commercial towns upon the sea-coast, fortunes will 
occasionally be made. Some of those who grow rich will 
De prudent, live within bounds, and preserve what they 
have gained for their posterity; others, fond of showing 
their wealth, will be extravagant, and ruin themselves.— 
Laws cannot prevent this; and perhaps it is not always an 
evil to the public. A shilling spent idly by a fool may be 
picked up by a wiser person, who knows better what to do 
with it. It is therefore not lost. A vain silly fellow builds 
a fine house, furnishes it richly, lives in it expensively, and 
in a few years ruins himself; but the masons, carpenters, 
Smiths, and other honest tradesmen, have been by his employ 
assisted in maintaining and raising their families; the farmer 
has been paid for his labor, and encouraged, and the estate 
is now in better hands. In some cases, indeed, certain 
modes of luxury may be a public evil, in the same manner as 
it is a private one. If there be a nation, for instance, that 
exports its beef and linen, to pay for the importation of cla- 
ret and porter, while a great part of its people live upon 
potatoes, and wear no shirts; wherein does it differ from the 
sot, who lets his family starve, and sells his clothes to buy 
drink? Our American commerce is, I confess, a little in 
this way. We sell our victuals to the islands for rum and 
sugar; the substantial necessaries of life for superfluities. 



ESSAYS'. 225 

But we have plenty, and live well nevertheless; though by 
being soberer, we might be richer. 

The vast quantity of forest land we have yet to clear and 
put in order for cultivation, will for a long time keep the 
body of our nation laborious and frugal. Forming an opinion 
of our people, and their manners, by what is seen among the 
inhabitants of the seaports, is judging from an improper sam- 
ple. The people of the trading towns may be rich and N luxu- 
rious, while the country possesses all the virtues that tend 
to promote happiness and public prosperity. Those towns 
are not much regarded by the country ; they are hardly con- 
sidered as an essential part of the States ; and the experi- 
ence of the last war has shown, Viat their being in the pos- 
session of the enemy did not necessarily draw on the sub- 
jection of the country; which bravely continued to maintain 
its freedom and independence notwithstanding. 

It has been computed by some political arithmetician, 
that if every man and woman would work for four hours 
each day on something useful, that labor would produce 
sufficient to procure all the necessaries and comforts of life; 
want and misery would be banished out of the world, and 
the rest of the twenty four hours might be leisure and 
pleasure. 

What occasions then so much want and misery? It is 
the employment of men and women in works that produce 
neither the necessaries nor the conveniences of life ; who, 
with those who do nothing, consume necessaries raised by 
the laborious. To explain this : 

The first elements of wealth are obtained by labor from 
the earth and waters. I have land, and raise corn. With 
this, if I feed a family that does nothing, my corn will be 
consumed, and at the end of the year I shall be no richer 
than I was at the beginning. But if, while I feed them, I 
employ them, some in spinning, others in making bricks, &c. 
for building, the value of my corn will be arrested ^nd re- 
main with me, and at the end of the year we may all be 
better clothed and better lodged. And if, instead of em- 
ploying a man I feed in making bricks, I employ him in 
fiddling for me, the corn he eats is gone, and no part of his 
manufacture remains to augment the wealth and conveni- 
ence of the family ; I shall, therefore, be the poorer for this 

r2 



226 ESSAYS. 

fiddling m"an, unless the rest of my family work more, or 
eat less, to make up the deficiency he occasions. 

Look round the world, and see the millions employed in 
doing nothing, or in something that amounts to nothing, 
when the necessaries and conveniences of life are in ques- 
tion. What is the bulk of commerce, for which we fight 
and destroy each other, but the toil of millions for super- 
fluities, to the great hazard and loss of many lives, by the 
constant dangers of the sea? How much labor is spent in 
building and fitting great ships, to go to China and Arabia 
for tea and coffee, to die West Indies for sugar, to America 
for tobacco! These tilings cannot be called the necessaries 
of life, for our ancestors lived very comfortably without 
them. 

A question may be asked — Could all these people now 
employed in raising, making, or carrying superfluities, be 
subsisted by raising necessaries'? I think they might. The 
world is large, and a great part of it still uncultivated. 
Many hundred millions of acres in Asia, Africa and Ame- 
rica, are still in a forest; and a great deal even in Europe. 
On a hundred acres of this forest, a man might become a 
substantial farmer; and a hundred thousand men employ- 
ed in clearing each his hundred acres, would hardly brighten 
a spot large enough to be visible from the moon, unless with 
Herschel's telescope ; so vast are the regions still in wood. 

It is, however, some comfort to reflect that, upon the 
whole, the quantity of industry and prudence among man- 
kind exceeds the quantity of idleness and folly. Hence 
the increase of good buildings, farms cultivated, and popu- 
lous cities filled with wealth, all over Europe, which a few 
ages since were only to be found on the coast of the Medi- 
terranean; and this notwithstanding the mad wars continu- 
ally raging by which are often destroyed, in one year, the 
works of many years' peace. So that we may hope, the 
luxury of a few merchants on the coast will not be the ruin 
of America. 

One reflection more, and I will end this long rambling 
letter. Almost all the parts of our bodies require some ex- 
pense. The feet demand shoes, the legs stockings; the 
rest of the body clothing; and the belly a good deal of vic- 
tuals. Our eyes, though exceedingly useful, ask, when 
reasonable, only the cheap assistance of spectacles, which 



ESSAYS, 237 

could not much impair our finances. But the eyes of other 
people are the eyes that ruin us. If all but myself were 
blind, I should want neither fine clothes, fine houses, nor 
fine furniture. 



ON THE SLAVE TRADE. 

Reading in the newspapers the speech of Mr. Jackson 
in congress against meddling with the affaif of slavery, or 
attempting to mend (he condition of slaves, it put me in 
mind of a similar speech, made about one hundred years 
since, by Sidi Mahomet Ibrahim, a member of the divan of 
Algiers, which may be seen in Martin's account of his con- 
sulship, 1687. It was against granting the petition of the 
sect called Erika, or Purists, who prayed for the abolition 
of piracy and slavery, as being unjust. Mr. Jackson does 
not quote it: perhaps he has not seen it. If, therefore, 
some of its reasonings are to be found in his eloquent speech 
it may not only show that men's interests operate, and 
are operated on, with surprising similarity, in all countries 
and climates, whenever they are under similar circumstan- 
ces. The African speech, as translated, is as follows: 

"Alia Bismillah, &c. God is great, and Mahomet is his 
prophet. 

"Have these Erika considered the consequences of grant- 
ing their petition? If we cease our cruises against the 
Christians, how shall we be furnished with the commodities 
their countries produce, and which are so necessary for us? 
If we forbear to make slaves of their people, who, in this 
hot climate, are to cultivate our lands T Who are to per- 
form the common labors of our city, and of our families ? 
Must we not then be our own slaves? And is there not 
more compassion and more favor due to us Musselmen than 
to those Christian dogs? We have now above fifty thou- 
sand slaves in and near Algiers. This number, if not kept 
up by fresh supplies, will soon diminish, and be gradually 
annihilated. If, then r we cease taking and plundering the 
infidels' ships, and making slaves of the seamen and passen- 



226 ESSAYS. 

gers, our lands will become of no value, for want of culti- 
vation ; the rents of houses in the city will sink one half; 
and the revenues of government, arising from the shares of 
prizes, must be totally destroyed. And for what? To 
gratify the whim of a whimsical sect, who would have us 
not only forbear making more slaves, but even manumit 
those we have. But who is to Indemnify their masters for 
the loss! Will the state do it? Is our treasury sufficient? 
Will the Erika doit? Can they do it? Or would they, 
to do what they think justice to the slaves, do a greater in- 
justice to the owners? And if we set our slaves free, what 
is to be done with them? Few of them will return to their 
native countries; they know too well the greater hardships 
they must there be subject to. They will not embrace our 
holy religion : they will not adopt our manners : our people 
will not pollute themselves by intermarrying with them. — 
Must we maintain them as beggars in our streets; or suffer 
our properties to be the prey of their pillage? for men ac- 
customed to slavery will not work for a livelihood when not 
compelled. And what is there so pitiable in their present 
condition? Were they not slaves in their own countries? 
Are not Spain, Portugal, France, and the Italian states, 
governed by desDOts, who hold all their subjects in slavery, 
without exception? Even England treats her sailors as 
slaves; for they are, whenever the government pleases, 
seized and confined in ships of war, condemned not only to 
work, but to fight for small wages, or a mere subsistence, 
not better than our slaves are allowed by us. Is their con- 
dition then made worse by their falling into our hands? No : 
they have only exchanged one slavery for another ; and I 
may say a better : for here they are brought into a land 
where the sun of Islamism gives forth its light, and shines 
in full splendor, and they have an opportunity of making 
themselves acquainted with the true doctrine, and thereby 
save their immortal souls. Those who remain at home 
have not that nappiness. Sending the slaves home, then T 
would be sending them out of light into darkness. 

"I repeat the question, what is to be done with them ? I 
have heard it suggested, that they may be planted in the 
wilderness, where there is plenty of land for them to subsist 
on, and where they may flourish as a free state. But they 
are, I doubt, too little disposed to labor without compul- 



ESSAYS. 229 

sion, as well as too ignorant to establish good government; 
and the wild Arabs would soon molest and destroy, or 
again enslave them. While serving us, we take care to 
provide them with everything; and they are treated with 
humanity. The laborers in their own countries are, as I 
am informed, worse fed, lodged and clothed. The condi- 
tion of most of them is therefore already mended, and re- 
quires no farther improvement. Here their lives are m ■ 
safety. They are not liable to be impressed for soldiers, 
and forced to cut one another's Christian throats, as in the 
wars of their own countries. If some of the religious rnad 
bigots, who now teaze us with their silly petitions, have, 
in a fit of blind zeal, freed their slaves, it was not generos- 
ity, it was not humanity, that moved them to the action; 
it was from the conscious burden of a load of sins, and 
hope, from the supposed merits of so good a work, to be ex- 
cused from damnation. How grossly are they mistaken, in 
imagining slavery to be disavowed by the Koran ! Are not 
the two precepts, to quote no more, 'Masters, treat your 
slaves with kindness — Slaves, serve your masters with 
cheerfulness and fidelity,' clear proofs to the contrary ? — 
Nor can the plundering of infidels be in that sacred book 
forbidden ; since it is well known from it, that God has 
given the world, and all that it contains, to his faithful 
Musselmen, who are to enjoy it, of right, as fast as they 
conquer it. Let us then hear no more of this detestable pro- 
position, the manumission of Christian slaves, the adoption 
of which would, by depreciating our lands and houses, and 
thereby depriving so many good citizens of their properties, 
create universal discontent, and provoke insurrections, to 
the endangering of government, and producing general con- 
fusion. I have, therefore, no doubt, that this wise council 
will prefer the comfort and happiness of a whole nation of 
true believers, to the whim of a few Erika, and dismiss 
their petition." 

The result was, as Martin tells us, that the divan came 
to this resolution : "That the doctrine, that the plundering 
and enslaving the Christians is unjust, is at best proble- 
matical; but that it is the interest of this state to continue 
the practice, is clear; therefore, let the petition be reject- 
ed." And it was rejected accordingly. 

And since like motives are apt to produce, in the minds 
20 



230 ESSAYS. 

of men, like opinions and resolutions, may we not venture 
to predict, from this account, that the petitions to the parli- 
ament of England for abolishing the slave trade, to say no- 
thing of other legislatures, and the debates upon thein, will 
have a similar conclusion. 

HISTORICUS. 
March 23, 1790. 



OBSERVATIONS ON WAR. 

By the original laws of nations, war and extirpation 
were the punishment of injury. Humanizing by degrees, 
it admitted slavery instead of death : a farther step was, the 
exchange of prisoners instead of slavery : another, to respect 
more the property of private persons under conquest, and be 
content with acquired dominion. Why should not this law 
of nations go on improving? Ages have intervened be- 
tween its several steps; but as knowledge of late increases 
rapidly, why should not those steps be quickened ? Why 
should it not be agreed to, as the future law of nations, that 
in any war hereafter, the following descriptions of men 
should be undisturbed, have the protection of both sides, 
and be permitted to follow their employments in security, 
viz: 

1. Cultivators of the earth, because they labor for the 
subsistence of mankind. 

2. Fishermen, for the same reason. 

3. Merchants and traders in unarmed ships, who accom- 
modate different nations by communicating and exchanging 
the necessaries and conveniences of life. 

4. Artists and mechanics, inhabiting and working in 
open towns. 

It is hardly necessary to add, that the hospitals of ene- 
mies should be unmolested — they ought to be assisted. It 
is for the interest of humanity in general, that the occasions 
of war, and the kiducements to it, should be diminished. If 
rapine be abolished, one of the encouragements to war is 
taken away ; and peace therefore more likely to continue 
and be lasting. 



ESSAYS. 231 

The practice of robbing merchants on the high seas — a 
remnant of the ancient piracy — though it may be acciden- 
tally beneficial to particular persons, is far from being prof- 
itable to all engaged in it, or to the nation that authorizes it. 
In the beginning of a war some rich ships are surprised and 
taken. This encourages the first adventurers to fit out more 
armed vessels ; and many others to do the same. But the 
enemy at the same time become more careful, arm their 
merchant ships better, and render them not so easy to be 
taken : they go also more under the protection of convoys. 
Thus, while the privateers to take them are multiplied, the 
vessels subjected to be taken, and the chances of profit, are 
diminished ; so that many cruises are made wherein the ex- 
penses overgo the gains ; and, as is the case in other lotte- 
ries, though particulars have got prizes, the mass of adven- 
turers are losers, the whole expense of fitting out all the 
privateers during a war being much greater than the whole 
amount of goods taken. 

Then there is the national loss of all the labor of so many 
men during the time they have been employed in robbing; 
who besides spend what they get in riot, drunkenness, and 
debauchery ; lose their habits of industry ; are rarely fit for 
any sober business after a peace, and serve only to increase 
the numberof highwaymen and housebreakers. Even the 
undertakers, who have been fortunate, are by sudden wealth 
led into expensive living, the habit of which continues when 
the means of supporting it cease, and finally ruins them : a 
just punishment for their having wantonly and unfeelingly 
ruined many honest innocent traders and their families, 
whose substance was employed in serving the common in- 
terest of mankind. 



ON THE IMPRESS OF SEAMEN. 

Notes copied from Dr. Franklin's Writing in Pencil in the 
Margin of Judge Foster's celebrated argument in Favor 
of the Impressing of Seamen (published in the folio Edi- 
tion of his works.) 
Judge Foster, p. 158, "Every man." — The conclusion 

here, from the whole, to a jjart, does not seem to be good 



232 ESSAYS. 

logic. If the alphabet, should say, Let us all fight for the de- 
fence of the whole; that is equal, and may, therefore, be 
just. But if they should say, Let ABC and D go out 
and fight for us, while we stay at home and sleep in whole 
skins; that is not equal, and therefore cannot be just. 

lb. " Employ." — If you please. The word signifies 
engaging a man to work for me, by offering him such wages 
as are sufficient to induce him to prefer my service. This is 
very different from compelling him to work on such terms as 

1 think proper. 

lb. " This service and employment," &c. — These are 
false facts. His employment and service are not the same. 
Under the merchant he goes in an unarmed vessel, not 
obliged to fight, but to transport merchandize. In the king's 
service he is obliged to fight, and to hazard all the dangers 
of battle. Sickness on board of king's ships is also more 
common and more mortal. The merchant's service, too, 
he can quit at the end of the voyage ; not the king's. — Also 
the merchant's wages are much higher. 

lb. "I am very sensible," fcc. — Here are two things put 
in comparison that arc not comparable : viz. injury to sea- 
men, and inconvenience to trade. Inconvenience to the 
whole trade of a nation will not justify injusticp to a single 
6eaman. If the trade would suffer without his service, it is 
able and ought to be willing to offer him such wages as may 
induce him to afford his service voluntarily. 

Page 159. "Private mischief must be borne with pa- 
tience, for preventing a national calamity." Where is 
this maxim in law and good policy to be found? And how 
can that be a maxim which is not consistent with common 
sense? If the maxim had been, that private mischiefs, 
which prevent a national calamity, ought to be generously 
compensated b} r the nation, one might understand it: but 
that such private mischiefs are only to be borne with patience 
is absurd ! 

Jb. "The expedient," &c. "And," &c. (Paragraphs 

2 and 3.) — Twenty ineffectual or inconvenient schemes 
will not justify one that is unjust. 

lb. " Upon the foot of," <fec. — Your reasoning, indeed, 
like a lie, stands but upon one foot; truth upon two. 

Page 160. " Full wages." — Probably the same they 
had in the merchant service. 



ESS a VS. 233 

Page 174. " I hardly admit," &c. — (Paragraph 5.) — 
When this author speaks of impressing, page 158, he di- 
minishes the horror of the practice as much as possible, by 
presenting to the mind one sailor only suffering a " hard- 
ship," (as he tenderly calls it) in some " particular cases" 
only ; and he places against this private mischief the incon- 
venience to the trade of the kingdom. But if, as he sup- 
poses is often the case, the sailor who is pressed and obliged 
to serve for the defence of trade, at the rate of twenty five 
shillings a month, could get three pounds fifteen shillings in 
the merchant's service, you take from him fifty shillings a 
month ; and if you have 100,000 in your service, you rob 
this honest industrious part of society and their poor fami- 
lies of £250,000 per month, or three millions a year, and 
at the same time oblige them to hazard their lives in fighting 
for the defence of your trade ; to the defence of which all 
ought indeed to contribute (and sailors among the rest) in 
proportion to their profitsby.it; but this three millions is 
more than their share, if they do not pay with their persons; 
but when you force that, methinks you should excuse the 
other. 

But, it may be said, to give to the king's seamen mer- 
chants' wages would cost the nation too much, and call for 
more taxes. The question then will amount to this : whe- 
ther it be just in a community, that the richer part should 
compel the poorer to fight in defence of them and their pro- 
perties, for such wages as they think fit to allow, and pun- 
ish them if they refuse? Our author tells us that it is He- 
gal." I have not law enough to dispute his authorities, 
but I cannot persuade myself that it is equitable. I will, 
however, own for the present, that it may be lawful when 
necessary; but then I contend that it may be used so as to 
produce the same good effects — the public security, without 
doing so much intolerable injustice as attends the impress- 
ing of common seamen. In order to be better understood 
I would premise two things : First. That voluntary seamen 
may be had for the service, if they were sufficiently paid. 
The proof is, that to serve in the same ship, and incur the 
same dangers, you have no occasion to impress captains, 
lieutenants, second lieutenants, midshipmen, pursers, nor 
many other officers. Why, but that the profits of their 
places, or the emoluments expected, are sufficient induce- 
20* 



294 ESSAYS. 

ments 1 ? The business then is, to find money, by impressing, 
sufficient to make the sailors all volunteers, as well as their 
officers; and this without any fresh burden upon trade. — 
The second of my premises is, that twenty five shillings a 
month, with his share of the salt beef, pork, and peas-pud- 
ding, being found sufficient for the subsistence of a hard- 
working seaman, it will certainly be so for a sedentary scho- 
lar or gentleman. I would then propose to form a treasury, 
out of which encouragements to seamen should be paid. To 
fill this treasury, I would impress a number of civil officers, 
who at present have great salaries, oblige them to serve in 
their respective offices for twenty five shillings a month with 
their share of mess provisions, and throw the rest of their 
salaries into the seaman's treasury. If such a press-war- 
rant were given me to execute, the first I would press 
should be a Recorder of Bristol, or a Mr. Justice Foster, be- 
cause I might have need of his edifying example, to show 
how much impressing ought to be borne with ; for he would 
certainly find, that though to be reduced to twenty five shil- 
lings a month might be a "private mischief f^ yet that agree- 
ably to his maxim of law and good policy, it *' ought to he 
borne with patience ," for preventing a national calamity. 
Then I \yould press the rest of the judges; and opening the 
red book, I would press every civil officer of government, 
from £50 a year salary up to £50,000, which would throw 
an immense sum into our treasury : and these gentlemen 
could not complain, since they would receive twenty-five 
shillings a month, and their rations ; and this without being 
obliged to fight. Lastly, I think I would impress * * * 



ESSAYS. 235 

ON THE CRIMINAL LAWS, AND THE PRAC- 
TICE OF PRIVATEERING. 

LETTER TO BENJAMIN VAUGHAN, ESa. 

MY dear friend, March 14, 1785. 

Among the pamphlets you lately sent me was one, enti- 
tled, Thoughts on Executive Justice. In return for that, I 
send you a French one on the same subject, Observations 
toncernant V Execution de V Article II. de la Declaration 
sur le Vol. They are both addressed to the judges, but writ- 
ten, as you will see, in a very different spirit. The English 
author is for hanging all thieves. The Frenchman is for 
proportioning punishments to offences. 

If we really believe, as we profess to believe, that the 
law of Moses was the law of God, the dictate of divine 
wisdom, infinitely superior to human; on what principles 
do we ordain death as the punishment of an offence, which, 
according to that law, was only to be punished by a restitu- 
tion of fourfold? To put a man to death for an offence 
which does not deserve death, is it not a murder? And, as 
the French writer says, Doit-on panir un delit contre la 
societe par un crime contre la nature 7 

Superfluous property is the creature of society. Simple 
and mild laws were sufficient to guard the property that was 
merely necessary. The savage's bow, his hatchet, and his 
coat of skins, were sufficiently secured, without law, by the 
fear of personal resentment and retaliation. When, by vir- 
tue of the first laws, part of the society accumulated wealth 
and grew powerful, they enacted others more severe, and 
would protect their property at the expense of humanity. 
This was abusing their power, and commencing a tyranny. 
If a savage, before he entered into society, had been told — 
" Your neighbor, by this means, may become owner of a 
hundred deer; but if your brother, or your son, or yourself, 
having no deer of your own, and being hungry, should kill 
one, an infamous death must be the consequence," he 
would probably have preferred his liberty, and his common 
right of killing any deer, to all the advantages of society 
that might be proposed to him. 
That it is better a hundred guilty persons should escape, 



236 ESSAYS. 

than that one innocent person should suffer, is a maxim that 
has been lona; and generally approved ; never, that I know 
of, controverted. Even the sanguinary author of the 
Thoughts agrees to it, adding well, " that the very thought 
of injured innocence, and much more that of suffering 
innocence, must awaken all our tenderest and most com- 
passionate feelings, and at the same time raise our highest 
indignation against the instruments of it. But," he adds, 
u there is no danger of either, from a strict adherence to the 
laws/' Really! — is it then impossible to make an unjust 
law ; and if the law itself be unjust, may it not be the very 
"instrument" which ought " to raise the author's and every 
body's highest indignation?" 1 see in the last newspapers 
from London, that a woman is capitally convicted at the 
Old Bailey, for privately stealing out of a shop some gauze, 
value fourteen shillings and three pence. Is there any pro- 
portion between the injury done by a theft, value fourteen 
shillings and three pence, and the punishment ol a human 
creature, by death, on a gibbet? Might not that woman, by 
her labor, have made the reparation ordained by God in 
paying fourfold ? Is not all punishment inflicted beyond 
the merit of the offence, so much punishment of innocence? 
In this light, how vast is the annual quantity, of not only 
injured but suffering innocence, in almost all the civilized 
states of Europe ! 

But it seems to have been thought, that this kind of inno- 
cence may be punished by way of preventing crimes. I 
have read, indeed, of a cruel Turk in Barbary, who when- 
ever he bought a new Christian slave, ordered him immedi- 
ately to be hung up by the legs, and to receive a hundred 
blows of a cudgel on the soles of his feet, that the severe 
sense of the punishment, and fear of incurring it thereafter, 
might prevent the faults that should merit it. Our author 
himself would hardly approve entirely of this Turk's con- 
duct in the government of slaves ; and yet he appears to 
recommend something like it for the government of English 
subjects, when he applauds the reply of Judge Burnet to 
the convict horse-stealer ; who, being asked what he had to 
say why judgment of death should not pass against him, 
and answering, that it was hard to hang a man for only 
stealing a horse, was told by the judge, " Man, thou art not 
to be hanged only for stealing a horse, but that horses may 



ESSAYS. 237 

not be stolen." The man's answer, if candidly examined, 
will, I imagine, appear reasonable, as being founded on the 
eternal principle of justice and equity, that punishments 
should be proportioned to offences ; and the judge's reply 
brutal and Unreasonable, though the writer "wishes alt 
judges to carry it with them whenever they go to the circuit, 
and to bear it in their minds, as containing a wise reason for 
all the penal statutes which they are called upon to put in 
execution. It at once illustrates," says he, "the true grounds 
and reasons of all capital punishments whatsoever, namely, 
that every man's property, as well as his life, may be held 
sacred and inviolate." Is there then no difference in value 
between properly and life?- If I think it right that the crime 
of murder should be punished with death, not only as an 
equal punishment of the crime, but to prevent other mur- 
ders, does it follow that I must approve of inflicting the 
same punishment for a little invasion on my property by 
theft? If I am not myself so barbarous, so bloody-minded, 
and revengeful, as to kill a fellow-creature for stealing from 
me fourteen shillings and three pence, how can I approve 
of a law that does it? Montesquieu, who was himself a 
judge, endeavors to impress other maxims. He must 
have known what humane judges feel on such occasions, 
and what the effect of those feelings ; and, so far from 
thinking that severe and excessive punishments prevent 
crimes, he asserts, as quoted by our French writer, that 

■'L'atrocite des loix en empeche l'execution. 

"Lorsqne la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent oblige de lui 
preferer Tiinpuiiite. 

"La cause do tous les relachemens vient de l'impunite des crimes, 
et non de la moderation des peines." 

It is said by those who know Europe generally, that there 
are more thefts committed and punished annually in En- 
gland, than in all the other nations put together. If this be 
so, there must be a cause or causes for such a depravity in 
our common people. May not one be the deficiency of 
justice and morality in our national government, manifest- 
ed in our oppressive conduct to subjects, and unjust wars 
on our neighbors? View the long-persisted in, unjust, mo- 
nopolizing treatment of Ireland, at length acknowledged ! 
View the plundering government exercised by our mer- 
chants in the Indies; the confiscating war made upon the 



238 ESSAYS. 

American colonics; and to say nothing of those made upon 
Fiance and Spain, view the late war upon Holland, which 
was seen by impartial Europe in no other light than that of a 
war of rapine and pillage; the hopes of an immense 
and easy prey being its only apparent, and probably its true 
and real, motive and encouragement. Justice is as strictly 
due between neighbor nations, as between neighbor citizens. 
A highwayman is as much a robber when he plunders in a 
gang, as when single; and a nation that makes an unjust 
war is only a great gang. After employing your people in 
robbing the Dutch, is it strange, that, being put out of that 
employ by peace, they still continue robbing, and rob one 
another! Piratcrie, as the French call it, or privateering, 
is the universal bent of the English nation, at home and 
abroad, wherever settled. No less than seven hundred 
privateers were, it is said, commissioned in the last war! 
These were fitted out by merchants, to prey upon other 
merchants, who had never done them any injury. Is there 
probably anyone of those privateering merchants of London, 
who were so ready to rob the merchants of Amsterdam, that 
would not as readily plunder another London merchant, of 
the next street, if he could do it with the same impunity? 
The avidity, the alieni hppctens is the same ; it is the fear 
alone of the gallows that makes the difference. How then 
can a nation, which among the honestest of its people, has 
so many thieves by inclination, and whose government en- 
couraged and commissioned no less than seven hundred 
gangs of robbers; how can such a nation have the face to 
condemn the crime in individuals, and hang up twenty of 
them in a morning! It naturally puts one in mind of a 
Newgate anecdote. One of the prisoners complained, that 
in the night somebody had taken his buckles out of his 
shoes. "What the devil 1" says another, "have we then 
thieves amongst us? It must not be suffered. Let us 
search out the rogue, and pump him to death." 

There is, however, one late instance of an English mer- 
chant who will not profit by such ill-gotten gain. He was, 
it seems, part owner of a ship, which the other owners 
thought fit to employ as a letter of marque, which took a 
number of French prizes. The booty being shared, he has 
now an agent here inquiring, by an advertisement in the 
Gazette, for those who have suffered the loss, in order to 



ESSAYS. 239 

make them, as far as in him lies, restitution. This consci- 
entious man is a quaker. The Scotch presbyterians were 
formerly as tender; for there is still extant an ordinance of 
the town council of Edinbugh, made soon after the Refor- 
mation, "forbidding the purchase of prize goods, under pain 
of losing the freedom of the burgh for ever, with other pun- 
ishment at the will of the magistrate ; the practice of ma- 
king prizes being contrary to good conscience, and the rule 
of treating Christian brethren as we would wish to be treat- 
ed ; and such goods are not to be sold by any godly man 
within this burgh." The race of these godly men in Scot- 
land are probably extinct, or their principles abandoned, 
since, as far as that nation had a hand in promoting the war 
agamst the colonies, prizes and confiscations are believed to 
have been a considerable motive. 

. It has been for some time a generally received opinion, 
that a military man is not to inquire whether a war be just 
or unjust; he is to execute his orders. All princes, who are 
disposed to become tyrants, must probably approve of this 
opinion, and be willing to establish it; but is it not a dan- 
gerous one? since, on that principle, if the tyrant com- 
mands his army to attack and destroy not only an unoffend- 
ing neighbor nation, but even his own subjects, the army is 
bound to obey. A negro slave, in our colonies, being com- 
manded by his master to rob or murder a neighbor, or do 
any other immoral act, may refuse ; and the magistrate will 
protect him in his refusal. The slavery then of a soldier is 
worse than that of a negro ! A conscientious officer, if not 
restrained by the apprehension of its being imputed to ano- 
ther cause, may indeed resign, rather than be employed in 
an unjust war; but the private men are slaves for life, and 
they are, perhaps, incapable of judging for themselves. We 
can only lament their fate, and still more that of a sailor, 
who is often dragged by force from his honest occupation, 
and compelled to imbrue his hands in perhaps innocent 
blood. But, methinks, it well behoves merchants (men 
more enlightened by their education, and perfectly free from 
any such force or obligation) to consider well of the justice 
of a war, before they voluntarily engage a gang of ruffians 
to attack their fellow merchants of a neighboring nation, to 
plunder them of their property, and perhaps ruin them and 
their families, if they yield it ; or to wound, maim, and mur- 



240 ESSAYS. 

der the-m, if they endeavor to defe-nd it. Yet these things 
are done by Christian merchants, whether a war be jnst or 
unjust; and it can hardly be just on both sides. They are 
done by English and American merchants, who, neverthe- 
less, complain of private theft, and hang by dozens the 
thieves they have taught by their own example. 

It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a stop were 
put to this enormity. The United States of America, though 
better situated than any European nation to make profit by 
privateering (most of the trade of Europe with the West 
Indies, passing before their doors) are, as far as in them 
lies, endeavoring to abolish the practice, by offering, in all 
their treaties with other powers, an article, engaging sol- 
emnly, that, in case of future war, no privateer shall be 
commissioned on either side; and that unarmed merchant 
ships, on both sides T shall pursue their voyages unmo- 
lested.* 

This will be a happy improvement of the law of nations. 

* Tin's offer having been accepted by the late Kins; of Prussia, a 
treaty of amity and commerce was concluded between that mon- 
arch and the United States, containing the following humane, phi- 
lanthropic article; in the formation of which Dr. Franklin, as one 
of the American plenipotentiaries, was principally concerned, viz- 

Art. XXIII. If war should arise between the two contracting 
parties, the merchants of either country, then residing in the other,, 
shall be allowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and 
settle their affairs, and may depart freely, carrying off all their ef- 
fects withoot molestation or hinderancc; and all women and chil- 
dren, scholars of every faculty, cultivators of the earth, artisans, 
manufacturers, and fishermen, unarmed, and inhabiting unfortified 
towns, villages, and places, and, in general, all others whose occu- 
pations are for the common subsistence and benefit of 'mankind,, 
shall be allowed to continue their respective employments, and 
shall not he molested in their Dersons, nor shall their houses or 
goods be burnt, or otherwise destroyed, nor their fields wasted by 
the armed force of the enemy into whose power, by the events of 
war, they may happen to fail; but if any thing is necessary to be 
taken from them for the use of such armed force, the same shall be 
paid for at a reasonable price. And all merchants and trading 
vessels employed in exchanging the products of different places, 
and thereby rendering the necessaries, conveniences, and comforts 
of human Fife more easy to be obtained, and more general, shall be 
allowed to pass free and unmolested : and neither of the contract- 
ing powers shall grant or issue any commission to any private 
armed vessels, empowering them to take or destroy such trading 
vessels, or interrupt such commerce. 



ESSAYS. 24 1 

The humane and the just cannot but wish general success to 
the proposition. 

With unchangeable esteem and affection, 
I am, my dear friend, 

Ever yours. 



REMARKS CONCERNING THE SAVAGES OF 
NORTH AMERICA. 

Savages we call them, because their manners differ from 
ours, which we think the perfection of civility; they think 
the same of theirs. 

Perhaps if we could examine the manners of different 
nations with impartiality, we should find no people so rude 
as to be without any rules of politeness ; nor any so polite 
as not to have some remains of rudeness. 

The Indian men, when young, are hunters and warriors ; 
when old, counsellors; for all their government is by the 
counsel or advice of the sages : there is no force, there are 
no prisons, no officers, to compel obedience, or inflict pun- 
ishment. Hence they generally study oratory; the best 
speaker having the most influence. The Indian women 
till the ground, dress the food, nurse and bring up the chil- 
dren, and preserve and hand down to posterity the memory 
of public transactions. These employments of men and 
women are accounted natural and honorable. Having few 
artificial wants, they have abundance of leisure for im- 
provement in conversation. Our laborious manner of life, 
compared with theirs, they esteem slavish and base ; and 
the learning on which we value ourselves, they regard as 
frivolous and useless. An instance of this occurred at the 
treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, anno 1744, between 
the government of Virginia and the Six Nations. After the 
principal business was settled, the commissioners from Vir- 
ginia acquainted the Indians by a speech, that there was at 
Williamsburgh a college, with a fund, for educating Indian 
youth ; and if the chiefs of the Six Nations would send 
down half a dozen of their sons to that college, the gove*R» 
21 L 



212 ESSAYS, 

ment would take care that they should Lie well provided for? 
and instructed in all the learning of the white people. It 
is one of the Indian rules of politeness not to answer a pub- 
lic proposition the same day that it is made : they think it 
would be treating it as a light matter, and that they show it 
respect by taking time to consider it, as of a matter impor- 
tant. They therefore deferred their answer till the day fol- 
lowing: when their speaker began, by expressing their deep 
sense of the kindness of the Virginia government, in ma- 
king them that offer; "for we know," says he, "that you 
highly esteem the kind of learning taught in those colleges, 
and that the maintenance of our young men, while with 
you, would be very expensive to you. We are convinced, 
therefore, that you mean to do us good by your proposal ; 
and we thank you heartily. But you who arc wise must 
know, that different nations have different conceptions of 
things; and you will therefore not take it amiss? if our ideas 
of tins kind of education happen not to be the same with 
yours. We have had some experience of it; several of our 
young people were formerly brought up at the colleges of the 
northern provinces; they were instructed in all your scien- 
ces; but when they came back to us, they were bad runners; 
ignorant of every means of living in the woods; unable to 
bear either cold or hunger ; knew neither how to build a cab- 
in, take a deer, or kill an enemy ; spoke our language im- 
perfectly ; were therefore neither fit for hunters, warriors, or 
counsellors : they were totally good for nothing. We are 
however, not the less obliged by your kind offer, though we 
decline accepting of it ; and to show our grateful sense of it, 
if the gentlemen of Virginia will send us a dozen of their 
sons, we will take great care of their education, instruct 
them in all we know, and make men of them." 

Having frequent occasions to hold public councils, they 
have acquired great order and decency in conducting them. 
The old men sit in the foremost ranks? the warriors in the 
next, and the women and children in the hindmost. The 
business of the women is to take exact notice of what pass- 
es, imprint it in their memories? for they have no writing, 
and communicate it to the children. They are the records 
of the council, and they preserve tradition of the stipula- 
tions in treaties a hundred years back ; which, when we 
compare with our writings, we always find exact. He that 



ESSAYS. 243 

would speak rises. The rest observe a profound silence. 
When he has finished, and sits down, they leave him five or 
six minutes to recollect, that, if he has omitted any thing 
he intended to say, or has any thing to add, he may rise 
again, and deliver it. To interrupt another, even in com- 
mon conversation, is reckoned highly, indecent. How dif- 
ferent this is from the conduct of a polite British House of 
Commons, where scarce a day passes without some confu- 
sion, that makes the speaker hoarse in calling to order; and 
how different from the mode of conversation, in many polite 
companies of Europe, where, if you do not deliver your 
sentences with great rapidity, you are cut off in the middle 
of it by the impatient loquacity of those you converse with, 
and never suffered to finish it ! 

The politeness of these savages m conversation is indeed 
carried to excess; since it does not permit them to contra- 
dict or deny the truth of what is asserted in their presence. 
By this means they, indeed, avoid disputes; but then it be- 
comes difficult to know their minds, or what impression you 
make upon them. The missionaries, who have attempted 
to convert them to Christianity, all complain of this as one 
of the great difficulties of their mission. The Indians hear 
with patience the truths of the gospel explained to them, 
and give their usual tokens of assent and approbation : you 
would think they were convinced. No such matter — it is 
mere civility. 

A Swedish minister having assembled the chiefs of the 
Susquehannah Indians, made a sermon to them, acquaint- 
ing them with the principal historical facts on which our 
religion is founded ; such as the fall of our first parents by 
eating an apple ; the coming of Christ to repair the mischief; 
his miracles and sufferings, &c.-^-When he had finished, 
an Indian orator stood up to thank him. "What you have 
told us," says he, "is all very good. It is indeed bad to eat 
apples. It is better to make them all into cider. We are 
much obliged by your kindness in coming so far to tell us 
those things which you have heard from your mothers. In 
return, I will tell you some of those which we have heard 
from ours. 

"In the beginning, our fathers had only the flesh of ani- 
mals to subsist on ; and if their hunting was unsuccessful, 
they were starving. Two of our young hunters having kill- 



244 ESSAYS. 

ed a fleer, made a fire in the woods to broil some parts of 
it. When they were about to satisfy their hunger, they be- 
held a beautiful young woman descend from the clouds, and 
seat herself on that hill which you see yonder among the 
blue mountains. They said to each other, It is a spirit that 
perhaps has smelt our broiled venison, and wishes to eat of 
it; let us offer some to her. They presented her with the 
tongue : she was pleased with the taste of it, and said, 
'Your kindness shall be rewarded. Come to this place after 
thirteen moons, and you shall find something that will be of 
great benefit in nourishing you and your children to the la- 
test generations. They did so, and to their surprise, found 
plants they had never seen before ; but which, from that an- 
cient time, have been constantly cultivated among us, to our 
great advantage. Where her right hand had touched the 
ground, they found maize ; where her left hand touched it, 
they found kidney-beans ; and where her backside had sat 
on it, they found tobacco." The good missionary disgusted 
with this idle tale, said, u What I delivered to you were sa- 
cred truths; but what you tell me is mere fable, fiction, and 
falsehood." The Indian, offended, replied, "My brother, 
it seems your friends have not done you justice in your edu- 
cation; they have not well instructed you in the rule6 of 
common civility. You saw that we, who understand and 
practise those rules, believed all your stories, why do you 
refuse to believe ours?" 

When any of them come into our towns, our people are 
apt to crowd round them, gaze upon them, and incommode 
them where they desire to be private: this they esteem great 
rudeness, and the effect of the want of instruction in the 
rules of civility and good manners. "We have," say they, 
"as much curiosity as you, and when you come into our 
towns, we wish for opportunities of looking at you; but for 
this purpose we hide ourselves behind bushes, where you are 
to pass, and never intrude ourselves into your company." 

Their manner of entering one another's villages has like- 
wise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in travelling strangers 
to enter a village abruptly, without giving notice of their ap- 
proach. Therefore, as soon as they arrive within hearing, 
they stop and halloo, remaining there till invited to enter. 
Two old men usually come out to them and lead them in. 
There is in every village a vacant dwelling, called the stran- 



ESSAYS. 245 

ger's house. Here they are placed, while the oldmeri go 
round from hut to hut, acquainting the inhabitants that 
strangers are arrived, who are probably hungry and weary, 
and every one sends them what he can spare of victuals, 
and skins to repose on. When the strangers are refreshed, 
pipes and tobacco are brought : and then, but not before, 
conversation begins, with inquiries who they are, whither 
bound, what- news, &c. and it usually ends with offers of 
service, if the strangers have occasion for guides, or any ne- 
cessaries for continuing their journey ; and nothing is exact- 
ed for the entertainment. 

The same hospitality, esteemed among them as a princi- 
pal virtue, is practised by private persons; of which Conrad 
Weiser, our interpreter, gave me the following instance. 
He had been naturalized among the Six Nations, and spoke 
well the Mohuck language. In going through the Indian 
country, to carry a message from our governor to the coun- 
cil at Onondaga, he called at the habitation of Canassete- 
go, an old acquaintance, who embraced him, spread furs for 
him to sit on, placed before him some boiled beans and ven- 
ison, and mixed some rum and water for his drink. When 
he was well refreshed, and had lit his pipe, Canassetego be- 
gan to converse with him : asked him how he had fared the 
many years since they had seen each other, whence he then 
came, what occasioned the journey, &c. Conrad answered 
all his questions; and when the discourse began to flag, the 
Indian, to continue it, said, "Conrad, you have lived long 
among the white people, and know something of their cus- 
toms; I have been sometimes at Albany, and have observed 
that once in seven days they shut up their shops, and as- 
semble all in the great house; tell me what it is for? What 
do they do there V "They meet there," says Conrad, "to 
hear and learn good things.'''' "I do not doubt," says the 
Indian, "that they tell you so; they have told me the same : 
but I doubt the truth of what they say, and I will tell you 
my reasons. I went lately to Albany, to sell my skins, 
and buy blankets, knives,, powder, rum, &c. You know I 
used generally to deal with Hans Hanson ; but I was a little 
inclined this time to try some other merchants. However, 
I called first upon Hans, and asked him what he would 
give for beaver. He said he could not give more than four 
shillings a pound : but, says he, I cannot talk on business 
21* 



246 ESSAYS. 

now; this is the day when we meet together to learn good 
things, and I am going to the meeting. So I thought to 
myself, since I cannot do any business to-day, I may as 
well go to the meeting too, and I went with him. There 
stood up a man in black, and began to talk, to the people 
very angrily. I did not understand what he said : but, per- 
ceiving that he looked much at me and at Hanson, I ima- 
gined he was angry at seeing me there ; so I went out, sat 
down near the house, struck fire, and lit my pipe, waiting 
till the meeting should break up. I thought too, that the 
man had mentioned something of beaver; I suspected it 
might be the subject of their meeting. So, when they came 
out, I accosted my merchant, 'Well Hans,' says I, 'I hope 
you have agreed to give more than four shillings a pound.' 
'No,' says he, 'I cannot give so much; I cannot give more 
than three shillings and sixpence.' I then spoke to several 
other dealers, but they all sung the same song, three and 
sixpence, three and sixpence. This made it clear to me 
that my suspicion was right ; and that, whatever they pre- 
tended of meeting to learn good tilings, the real purpose 
was to consult how to cheat Indians in the price of beaver. 
Consider but a little, Conrad, and you must be of my opin- 
ion. If they met so often to learn good things, they would 
certainly have learned some oefore this time. But they are 
still ignorant. You know our practice. If a white man, 
in travelling through our country, enters one of our cabins, 
we all treat him as I do you ; we dry him if he is wet, we 
warm him if he is cold, and give him meat and drink, that 
he may allay his thirst and hunger; and we spread soft furs 
for him to rest and sleep on : we demand nothing in return.* 
But if I go into a white man's house at Albany, and ask 
for victuals and drink, they say, Where is your money? and 
if I have none, they say, Get out, you Indian dog. You 

* It is remarkable that, in alj ages and countries, hospitality has 
been allowed a3 the virtue of those, whom the civilized were pleas- 
ed to call barbarians: the Greeks celebrated the Scythians for it; 
the Saracens possessed it eminently; and it is to this day the reign- 
ing virtue of the wild Arabs. St. Paul, too, in the relation of hi3 
voyage and shipwreck, on the island of Melita, says, "The barba- 
rous people showed us no little kindness; for they kindled a fire, 
and received us every one, because of the present rain, and be- 
cause of the cold." This note is taken from a small collection of 
Wnnktio's «aners, --printed for DUly. 



ESSAYS. 247 

see that they have not learned those little good things that 
we need no meetings to be instructed in, because our moth- 
ers taught them us when we were children ; and therefore it 
is impossible their meetings should be, as they say, for any 
such purpose, or have any such effect; they are only to con- 
trive the cheating of Indians in the price of beaver." 



TO MR. DUBQURG. 

CONCERNING THE DISSENTIONS BETWEEN ENGLAND AND 
AMERICA. 

London, October 2, 1770. 

I see, with pleasure, that we think pretty much alike on 
the subjects of English America. We of the colonies have 
never insisted that we ought to be exempt from contributing 
to the common expenses necessary to support the prosperity 
of the empire. We only assert that, having parliaments of 
our own, and not having representatives in that of Great 
Britain, our parliaments are the only judges of what we can 
and what we ought to contribute in this case ; and that the 
English parliament has no right to take our money without 
our consent. In fact, the British empire is not a single state ; 
it comprehends many ; and though the parliament of Great 
Britain has arrogated to itself the power of taxing the colo- 
nies, it has no more right to do so than it has to tax Han- 
over. We have the same king, but not the same legisla- 
tures. 

The dispute between the two countries has already lost 
England many millions sterling, which it has lost in its com- 
merce, and America has in this respect been a proportion- 
able gainer. This commerce consisted principally of super- 
fluities; objects of luxury and fashion, which we can well 
do without; and the resolution we have formed, of import- 
ing no more till our grievances are redressed, has enabled 
many of our infant manufactures to take root ; and it will 
not be easy to make our people abandon them in future, 
even should a connexion more cordial than ever succeed the 
present troubles. — I have, indeed, no doubt that the parlia- 



248 ESSAYS. 

ment of England will finally abandon its present preten- 
sions, and leave us to the peaceable enjoyment of our rights 
and privileges. 

B. FRANKLIN. 



A COMPARISON 

OF THE CONDUCT OF THE ANCIENT JEW?, AND OP 

THE ANTI-FEDERALISTS IN THE UNITED STATES 

OF AMERICA. 

A zealous advocate for the proposed Federal Constitu- 
tion in a certain public assembly said, that "the repugnance 
of great part of mankind to good government was such, that 
he believed that if an angel from heaven was to bring down 
a constitution formed there for our use, it would nevertheless 
meet with violent opposition." — He was reproved for the 
supposed extravagance of the sentiment; and he did not 
justify it. Probably it might not have immediately occur- 
red to him, that the experiment had been tried, and that the 
event was recorded in the most faithful of all histories, the 
Holy Bible ; otherwise he might, as it seems to me, have 
supported his opinion by that unexceptionable authority. 

The Supreme Being had been pleased to nourish up a 
single family, by continued acts of his attentive providence, 
until it became a great people : and having rescued them 
from bondage by many miracles performed by his servant 
Moses, he personally delivered to that chosen servant, in 
presence of the whole nation, a constitution and code of 
laws for theirobservance; accompanied and sanctioned with 
promises of great rewards, and threats of severe punish- 
ments, as the consequence of their obedience or disobedi- 
ence. 

This constitution, though the Deity himself was to be at 
its head (and it is therefore called by political writers a 
theocracy) could not be carried into execution but by means 
of his ministers : Aaron and his sons were therefore commis- 
sioned to be, with Moses, the first established ministry of 
the new government. 

One would have thought, that the appointment of men, 
who had distinguished themselves in procuring the liberty 



ESSAYS. 249 

of their nation, and had hazarded their lives in openly op- 
posing the will of a powerful monarch who would have re- 
tained that nation in slavery, might have been an appoint- 
ment acceptable to a grateful people ; and that a constitu- 
tion framed for them by the Deity himself, might on that 
account have been secure of a universal welcome reception. 
Yet there were, in every one of the thirteen tribes, some dis- 
contented, restless spirits, who were continually exciting 
them to reject the proposed new government, and this from 
various motives. 

\Many still retained an affection for Egypt, the land of 
their nativity ; and these, whenever they felt any inconven- 
ience or hardship, though the natural and unavoidable ef- 
fect of their change of situation, exclaimed against their 
leaders as the authors of their trouble ; and were not only 
for returning into Egypt, but for stoning their deliverers.* 
Those inclined to idolatry were displeased that their golden 
calf was destroyed. Many of the chiefs thought the new 
constitution might be injurious to their particular interests, 
that the profitable places would be engrossed by the fami- 
lies and friends of Moses and Jlaron, and others equally 
well born excluded. t — In Josephus, and the Talmud, we 
earn some particulars, not so fully narrated in the Scripture. 
We are there told, "that Korah was ambitious of the priest- 
hood ; and offended that it was conferred on Aaron ; and 
this, as he said, by the authority of Moses only, without the 
consent of the people. He accused Moses of having, by 
various artifices, fraudulently obtained the government, and 
deprived the people-of their liberties; and of conspiring with 
Aaron to ^perpetuate the tyranny in their family. Thus, 
though Korah's real motive was the supplanting of Aaron, 
he persuaded the people that he meant only the public 
good ; and they, moved by his insinuations, began to cry 
out,— 'Let us maintain the common liberty of our respec- 
tive tribes ; we have freed ourselves from the slavery impo- 
sed upon us by the Egyptians, and shall we suffer ourselves 

* Numbers, chap. xiv. 

t Numbers, chap. xvi. ver. 3. "And they gathered themselves 
together against Moses and against Aaron, and said unto them, Ye 
take too much upon you, seeing all the congregation are holy, ev- 
ery one of them, — wherefore then lift ye up yourselves above the 
congregation?" 

t, 2 



950 ESSAYS. 

to be made slaves by Moses? If we must have a master, 
it were better to return to Pharaoh, who at least fed us with 
bread and onions, than to serve this new tyrant, who by 
his operations has brought ns into danger of famine.' Then 
they called in question the reality of Ids conferences with 
God; and objected to the privacy of the meeting, and the 
preventing any of the people from being present at the col- 
loquies, oi even approaching tire place, as grounds of great 
suspicion. They accused N[osesalso of peculation : as em- 
bezzling part of the golden spoons and the silver chargers, 
that the princes had offered at the dedication of the altar,* 
and the offerings of gold by the common peoplc,t as well as 
most of the poll-tax;}, and Aaron they accused of pocket- 
ing much of the gold, of which he pretended to have made 
a molten calf. Besides peculation, they charged Moses 
with ambition; to gratify which passion, he had, they said, 
deceived the people, by promising to bring them to a land 
flowing with milk and honey: instead of doing which, he 
had brought them from such a land ; and that he thought 
light of all this mischief, provided he could make himself an 
absolute prince. J That, to support the new dignity with 
splendor in his family, the partial poll-tax already leviec 
and given to Aaron, || was to be followed by a general one 
which would probably be augmented from time to time, 
be were suffered to go on promulgating new laws, on pre-r 
lence of new occasional revelations of the Divine will, till 
their whole fortunes were devoured by that aristocracy." 

Moses denied the charge of peculation ; and his accusers 
were destitute of proofs to support it; though facts, if real, 
are in their nature capable of proof. "I have not," said 
he, (with holy confidence in the presence of God,) U I have 
not taken from this people the value of an ass, nor done 
them any other injury." But his enemies had made the 
charge, and with some success among the populace ; for no 
kind of accusation is so readily made, or easily believed, by 
knaves, as the accusation of knavery. 

* Numbers, chap. vii. f Exodus, cliap. xxxv. ver. 22. 

t Numbers, chap. iii. and Exodus, cliap. xxx. 

§ Numbers, chap. xvi. ver. 13. "It is a small thing that thorj 
hast brought us up out of a land flowing with milk and honey, to 
kill us in this wilderness, except that thou make thyself altogether 
a prince over us!" 

j| Ibid, cliap. iii. If Exodus, chap. xxx. 



ESSAYS. 351 

In fine, no less than two hundred and fifty of the prin- 
cipal men, "famous in the congregation, men of renown,"** 
heading and exciting the mob, worked them up to such a 
pitch of phrenzy, that they called out, Stone 'em, stone 
'em, and thereby secure our liberties; and let us choose oth- 
er captains, that they may lead us back into Egypt, in case 
we do not succeed in reducing the Canaanites* 

On the whole, it appears that the Israelites were a peo-: 
pie jealous of their new-acquired liberty, which jealousy 
was in itself no fault: but that, when they suffered it to be 
worked upon by artful men, pretending public good, with 
nothing really in view but private interest, they were led to 
oppose the establishment of the new constitution, whereby 
they brought upon themselves much inconvenience and 
misfortune. It farther appears from the same inestimable' 
history, that when$ after many ages, the constitution had 
become old and much abused, and an amendment of it was 
proposed, the populace, as they had accused Moses of the 
ambition of making himself a prince* and cried out, Stone 
him, stone him ; so, excited by their high priests and scribes^ 
they exclaimed against the' Messiah, that he aimed at be- 
coming King of the Jews* and cried, Crucify him, crucify 
him. From all which we may gather, that popular opposi- 
tion to a public measure is no proof of its impropriety, even 
though the opposition be excited and headed by men of dis- 
tinction. 

To conclude, I beg I may not be understood to infer, 
that our general convention was divinely inspired when it 
formed the new federal constitution, merely because that 
constitution has been unreasonably and vehemently oppo- 
sed ; yet, I must own, I have so much faith in the general 
government of the world by Providence, that I can hardly 
conceive a transaction of such momentous importance to 
the welfare of millions now existing, and to exist in the pos- 
terity of a great nation, should be suffered to pass without 
being in some degree influenced, guided, and governed by 
that omnipotent, omnipresent, and beneficent Ruler, in 
whom all inferior spirits live, and move, and have thei* 
being. 

* Numbers, chap. xvi. 



252 ESSAYS. 



NAUTICAL AFFAIRS. 

Though Britain bestows more attention to trade than 
any other nation, and though it be the general opinion, that 
the safety of their state depends upon her navy alone; yet 
it seems not a little extraordinary, that most of the great 
improvements in ship-building have originated abroad. The 
best sailing vessels in the royal navy have in general been 
French prizes. This, though it may admit of exceptions, 
cannot be upon the whole disputed. 

Nor is Britain entirely inattentive to naval architecture; 
though it is no where scientifically taught, and those who 
devise improvements have seldom an opportunity of bring- 
ing them into practice. What a pity it is, that no contri- 
vance should be adopted, for concentrating the knowledge 
that different individuals attain in this art, into one common 
focus, if the expression may be admitted. Our endeavors 
shall not be wanting to collect together, in the best way we 
can, the scattered hints that shall occur under this head, 
not doubting but the public will receive with favor this 
humble attempt to waken the attention to a subject of sue 
great national importance. 

Dr. Franklin, among the other inquiries that had engaged 
his attention, during a long life spent in the uninterrupted 
pursuit of useful improvements, did not let this escape his 
notice ; and many useful hints, tending to perfect the art of 
navigation, and to meliorate the condition of seafaring peo- 
ple, occur in his work. In France, the art of constructing 
ships has long been a favorite study, and many improve- 
ments in that branch have originated with them. Among 
the last of the Frenchmen, who have made any consider- 
able improvement in this respect, is M. Le Roy, who has 
constructed a vessel well adapted to sail in rivers, where 
the depth of water is inconsiderable, and that yet was ca- 
pable of being navigated at sea with great ease. This he 
effected in a great measure by the particular mode of rig- 
ging, which gave the mariners much greater power over the 
vessel than they could have when of the usual construction. 

I do not hear that this improvement has in any case been 
adopted in Britain. But the advantages that would result 
from having a vessel of small draught of water to sail with 



ESSAYS. 253\ 

the same steadiness, and to lie equally near the wind, as 
one may do that is sharper built, are so obvious, that many 
persons have been desirous of falling upon some way to ef- 
fect it. About London, this has been attempted by means 
of lee boards (a contrivance now so generally known as not 
to require to be here particularly described) and not without 
effect. But these are subject to certain inconveniences, 
that render the use of them in many cases ineligible. 

Others have attempted to effect the purpose by building- 
vessels with more than one keel ; and this contrivance,- when 
adopted upon proper principles, promises to be attended 
with the happiest effects. But hitherto that seems to have 
been scarcely adverted to. Time will be necessary to era- 
dicate common notions of very old standing, before this 
can be effectually done. 

Mr. W. Brodie, shipmaster in Leithf has lately adopted 
a contrivance for this purpose, that seems to be at the same 
time very simple and extremely efficacious. Necessity, in this 
case, as in many others, was the mother of invention. He 
had a small, flat, ill-built boat, which was so ill constructed 
as scarcely to admit of carrying a bit of sail on any occa- 
sion, and which was at the same time so heavy to be rowed, 
that he found great difficulty in using it for his ordinary oc- 
casions. In reflecting on the means that might be adopted 
for giving this useless cable such a hold of the water as to 
admit of his employing a sail wheiphe found it necessary, 
it readily occurred that a greater depth of keel would have 
this tendency. But a greater depth of keel ^ though it would 
have been useful for this purpose, he easily foresaw, would 
make his boat be extremely inconvenient on many other 
occasions. To effect both purposes, he thought of adopting 
a moveable keel, which would admit of being let down or 
taken up at pleasure. This idea he immediately carried in- 
to effect, by fixing a bar of iron of the depth he wanted, 
along each side of the keel, moving upon hinges that admit- 
ted of being moved in one direction, but which could not be 
bent back in the opposite direction. Thus, by means of a 
small chain fixed to each end, these moveable keels could 
. be easily lifted up at pleasure ; so that when he was enter- 
ing into a harbor, or shoal water, he had only to lift up his 
keels, and the boat was as capable of being managed there, 
as if he had wanted them entirely ; and when he went out 
22 



254 ESSAYS. 

to sea, where there was depth enough, by letting them dowrr, 
the lee keel took a firm hold of the water (while the other 
floated loose,) and gave such a steadiness to all its move- 
ments, as can scarcely be conceived by those who have not 
experienced it. 

This gentleman one day carried me out with him in his 
boat to try it. We made two experiments. At first, with 
a moderate breeze, when the moveable keels were kept up, 
the boat, when laid as near die wind as it could go, made 
an angle with the wake of about thirty degrees; but when 
the keels were let down, the same angle did not exceed five 
or six degrees, being nearly parallel with the course. 

At another time, the wind was right a-head, a brisk 
breeze. When we began to beat up against it, a trading 
sloop was very near us, steering the same course with us. 
This sloop went through the water a good deal faster than 
we could : but in the course of two hours beating to wind- 
ward, we found that the sloop was left behind two feet in 
three ; though it is certain, that if our false keels had not 
been let down, we could scarcely, in that situation, have 
advanced one foot for her three. 

It is unnecessary to point out to seafaring men the bene- 
fits that may be derived from this contrivance in certain cir- 
cumstances, as these will be very obvious to them. 

NOintl-WEST PASSAGE. 

Notwithstanding the many fruitless attempts that have 
oeen made to discover a north-west passage into the South 
Seas, it would seem that this important geographical ques- 
tion is not yet fully decided ; for at a meeting of the Acade- 
my of Sciences, at Paris, held on the 13th of November 
last, M. Bauche, first geographer to the king, read a curious 
memoir concerning the north-west passage. M. de Meu- 
doza, an intelligent captain of a vessel in the service of 
Spain, charged with the care of former establishments fa- 
vorable to the marine, has made a careful examination of 
the archives of several departments: there he has found the 
relation of a voyage made in the year 1598 by Lorenzo 
Herrero de Maldouada. There it appears, that at the en- 
try into Davis's Straits, north lat. 60 degrees and 28 of 
longitude, counting from the first meridian, he turned to the 
west, leaving Hudson's Bay on the South, and Baffin's Bay 



ESSAYS. 255 

«n the north. Arrived at lat. G5 and 297, he went towards 
the north by the Straits of Labrador, till he reached 76 
and 278; and, finding himself in the Icy Sea, he turned 
south-west to lat. 60 and 235, where he found a strait, 
which separates Asia from America, by which he entered 
into the South Sea, which he called the Straits of Anian. 
This passage ought to be, according to M. Bauche, between 
William's Sound, and Mount St. Elias. The Russians 
and Captain Cook have not observed it, because it is very 
narrow. But it is to be wished, that this important discov- 
ery should be verified, which has been overlooked for two 
centuries, in spite of the attempts which have been made on 
these coasts. M. Bauche calls this passage the Straits of 
Ferrer. 



POSITIONS TO BE EXAMINED. 

L All food, or subsistence for mankind, arises from the 
■earth or waters. 

2. Necessaries of life that are not foods, and all other 
conveniences, have their val-ue estimated by the proportion 
-of food consumed while we are employed in procuring 
them. 

3. A small people, with a large "territoiy, may subsist on 
the productions of nature, with no other labor than that of 
gathering the vegetables and catching the animals. 

4. A large people with a small territory, find these insuf- 
ficient; and, to subsist, must labor the earthy to make it 
produce greater quantities of vegetable food, suitable to the 
nourishment of men, and of the animals they intend to eat, 

5. From this labor arises a great increase of vegetable 
and animal food, and of materials for clothing; as flax, 
wool, silk, &c. The superfluity of these is wealth. With 
this wealth we pay for the labor employed in building our 
houses, cities, Szc. which are therefore only subsistence thus 
metamorphosed. 

6. Manufactures are only another shape into which so 
much provisions and subsistence are turned, as were in value 
equal to the manufactures produced. This appears from 



256 ESSAYS. 

hence, that the manufacturer does not, in fact, obtain from 
the employer, for bis labor, more than a mere subsistence, 
including raiment, fuel, and shelter; all which derive their 
value from the provisions consumed in procuring them. 

7. The produce of the earth, thus converted into manu- 
factures, maybe irjore easily carried into distant markets, 
than before such conversion, 

8. Fair commerce is where equal values are exchanged 
for equal, the expense of transport included. Thus, if it 
costs A in England, as much labor and charge to raise a 
bushel of wheat, as it costs B in France to produce four gal- 
lons of wine, then are- four gallons of wine the fair ex- 
change for a bushel of wheat, A and V» meeting at a half 
distance with their commodities to make the exchange. 
The advantage of this fair commerce is, that each party in- 
creases the number of his enjoyments, having, instead of 
wheat alone, or wine alone, the use of both wheat and 
wine. 

9. Where the labor and expense of producing both com-. 
modifies are known to both parties, bargains will generally 
be fair and equal. Where they are known to one party 
only, bargains will often be unequal, knowledge taking its 
advantage of ignorance. 

10. Thus he that carries a thousand bushels of wheat 
abroad to sell, may not probably obtain so great a profit 
thereon, as if he had first turned the wheat into manufac- 
tures, by subsisting therewith the workmen while producing 
those manufactures, since there are many expediting and 
facilitating methods of working, not generally known, and 
strangers to the manufactures, though they know pretty 
well the expense of raising wheat, are unacquainted with 
those short methods of working; and thence, being apt to 
suppose more labor employed in the manufacture than there 
really is, are more easily imposed on in their value, and in- 
duced to allow more for them than they are honestly worth. 

11. Thus the advantage of having manufactures in a 
country does not consist, as is commonly supposed, in their 
highly advancing the value of rough materials, of which 
they are formed ; since, though six pennyworth of flax may 
be worth twenty shillings when worked into lace, yet the ve^ 
ry cause of its being worth twenty shillings is that, besides 
the flax, it has cost nineteen shillings and sixpence in subsis- 



ESSAYS. 257 

tence to the manufacturer. But the advantage of manu- 
factures is, that, under their shape, provisions may be more 
cash}' carried to a foreign market*, and by their means our 
traders may more easily cheat strangers. Few, where it is 
not made, are judges of the value of Jace. The importer 
may demand forty, and perhaps get thirty shillings for that 
which cost him but twenty. 

1'2. Finally,- there seems to be but three ways for a na- 
tion to acquire wealth. The first is by war, as the Romans 
did, in plundering their conquered neighbors; this is robbe- 
ry. — The second by commerce, Which is generally cheating. 
— The third by agriculture, the only honest way, wherein 
man receives a real increase of the seed thrown into the 
ground, in a kind of continual miracle, wrought by the hand 
of God in his favor, as a reward for his innocent life and 
his virtuous industry. 

FRANKLIN. 



PRELIMINARY ADDRESS 
TO THE PENNSYLVANIA ALMANAC, 

ENTITLED 

"POOR RICHARD'S ALMANAC, FOR THE YEAR 1758." 
WRITTEN BY DR. FRANKLIN. 

I have heard, that nothing gives an author so great 
pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted by other 
learned authors. This pleasure I have seldom enjoyed ; 
for though I have been, if I may say it without vanity, an 
eminent author (of Almanacs) annually now a full quarter 
of a century, my brother authors in the same way (for what 
reason I know not) have ever been very sparing in their ap- 
plauses; and no other author has taken the least notice of 
me : so that, did not my writings produce me some solid 
pudding, the great deficiency of praise would have quite 
discouraged me. 

I concluded, at length, that the people were the best 
judges of my merit, for they buy my works; and, besides, 
in my rambles, where I am not personally known, I have 
frequently heard one or other of my adages repeated, with 

22* 



258 ESSAYS. 

*'As poor Richard says," at the end on't. This gave me 
some satisfaction, as it showed not only that my instruc- 
tions were regarded, but discovered likewise some respect 
for my authority; and I own, that, to encourage the prac- 
tice of remembering and repeating those wise sentences, I 
have sometimes quoted myself with great gravity. 

Judge then how much I have been gratified by an inci- 
dent which I am going to relate to you. I stopped my 
horse lately where a great number of people were collected 
at an auction of merchants' goods. The hour of sale not 
being come, they were conversing on the badness of the 
times; and one of the company called to a plain, clean, old 
man, with white locks, "Pray, father Abraham, what think 
ye of the times? Won't these heavy taxes quite ruin the 
country? How shall we ever be able to pay them? What 
would you advise us to?" Father Abraham stood up, and 
replied, — "If you'd have my advice, I'll give it to you in 
6hort; 'for a word to the wise is enough; and many words 
won't fill a bushel,' as poor Richard says." They joined in 
desiring him to speak his mind ; and gathering round him, 
he proceeded as follows: 

"Friends (says he) and neighbors, the taxes are indeed 
very heavy ; and if those laid on by the government were 
the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge 
them ; but we have many others, and much more grievous 
to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idle- 
ness, three times as much by our pride, and four times as 
much by our folly; and from these taxes the commissioners 
cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing an abatement. How- 
ever, let us hearken to good advice, and something may be 
done for us; 'God helps them that help themselves,' as 
poor Richard says in his Almanac. 

"It would be thought a hard government that should tax 
its people one-tenth part of their time, to be employed in 
its service; but idleness taxes many of us much more, if we 
reckon all that is spent in absolute sloth, or doing of noth- 
ing, with that which is spent in idle employments, or amuse- 
ments that amount to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on dis- 
eases, absolutely shortens life. 'Sloth, like rust, consumes 
faster than labor wears, while the key often used is always 
bright,' as poor Richard says. 'But dost thou love life 7 
then do not squander time, for that's the stuff life is made 



ESSAYS. 259 

of,' as poor Richard says. How much more than is neces- 
sary do we spend in sleep! forgetting, that 'the sleeping fox 
catches no poultry, and that there will be sleeping enough 
in the grave, 1 as poor Richard says. 'If time be of all things 
the most precious, wasting time must be (as poor Richard 
says) the greatest prodigality ;' since, as he elsewhere tells 
us, 'Lost time is never found again ; and what we call time 
enough, always proves little enough.' Let us then up and 
be doing, and doing to the purpose : so by diligence shall we 
do more with less perplexity. 'Sloth makes all things diffi- 
cult, but industry all easy,' as poor Richard says; and, 'he 
that riseth late must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake 
his business at night; while laziness travels so slowly, that 
poverty soon overtakes him,' as we read in poor Richard ; 
who adds, 'Drive thy business, let not that drive thee ;' and, 
'early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, weal- 
thy, and wise.' 

"So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times? 
We make these times better if we bestir ourselves. 'In- 
dustry needs not wish,' as poor Richard says; and, 'He 
that lives upon hope will die fasting.' 'There are no gains 
without pains; then help hands, for I have no lands; or if I 
have, they are smartly taxed ;' and, (as poor Richard like- 
wise observes) 'He that hath a trade, hath an estate, and he 
that hath a calling hath an office of profit and honor;' but 
then the trade must be worked at, and the calling well fol- 
lowed, or neither the estate nor the office will enable us to 
pay our taxes. If we are industrious, we shall never starve; 
for, as poor Richard says, 'At the workingman's house 
hunger looks in, but dares not enter. ' Nor will the bailiff 
or the constable enter; for, 'Industry pays debts, but despair 
increaseth them,' says poor Richard. What though you 
have found no treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a 
legacy? 'Diligence is the mother of good luck,' as poor 
Richard says ; and 'God gives all things to industry ; then 
plough deep while sluggards sleep, and you will have corn 
to sell and to keep,' says poor Dick. Work while it is call- 
ed to-day ; for you know not how much you may be hin- 
dered to-morrow ; which makes poor Richard say, 'One to- 
day is worth two to-morrows;' and, farther, 'Have you 
somewhat to do to-morrow, do it to-day.' 'If you were a 
servant, would you not be ashamed that a good master 



2G0 ESSAYS. 

should catch you idle? Are you then your own master, be 
ashamed to catch yourself idle,' as poor Dick says. When 
there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, and 
your gracious king, be up by peep of day : 'Let not the sun 
look down, and say, Inglorious here he lies!' Handle your 
tools without mittens | remember, that 'the cat in gloves 
catches no mice, 1 as poor Richard says. It is true, there is 
much to be done, and perhaps you are weak-handed; but 
stick to it steadily, and you, will see great effects; for, 'con- 
tinual dropping wears away stones, and by diligence and 
patience the mouse ate into the cable; and light strokes fell 
great oaks,' as poor Richard says in his Almanac, the year 
I cannot just now remember. 

"Methinks I hear some of you say, 'Must a man afford 
himself no leisure?' — I will tell thee, my friend, what poor 
Richard says: 'Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to 
gain leisure; and since thou art not sure of a minute, throw 
not away an hour.' Leisure is time for doing something 
useful: this leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy 
man never; so that, as poor Richard says, 'A life of leisure 
and a life of laziness are two things.' Do you imagine that 
sloth will afford you more comfort than labor? No; for, as 
poor Richard says, 'Troubles spring from idleness, and 
grievous toils from needless ease : many without labor would 
live by their own wits only; but they break for want of 
stock.' Whereas industry gives comfort, and plenty, and 
respect. 'Fly pleasures, and they'll follow you ; the dili- 
gent spinner has a large shift; and, now I have a sheep and 
a cow, every body bids me good-morrow;' all which is well 
said by poor Richard. 

"But with our industry, we must likewise be steady and 
settled and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our 
own eyes, and not trust too much to others: for, as poor 
Richard says, 

4 I never saw an oft-removed tree, 

Nor yet an oft-removed family, 

That throve so well as one that settled be.' 

"And again, 'Three removes are as bad as a fire;' and 
again, 'Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee;' and 
again, 'If you would have your business done, go; if not, 
send.' And again, 



ESSAYS. 261 

•He that by the plough would thrive, 
Himself must either hold or drive.' 

And again, 'The eye of the master will do more work than 
both his hands;' and again, 'Want of care does us more 
damage than want of knowledge;' and again, 'Not to over- 
see workmen is to leave them your purse open.' Trusting 
too much to others' care is the ruin of many ; for, as the Al- 
manac says, 'In the affairs of the world, men are saved not 
by faith, but by the want of it ;' but a man's own care is 
profitable ; for, saith poor Dick, 'Learning is to the studious, 
and riches to the careful, as well as power to the bold, and 
heaven to the virtuous.' And, further, 'If you would have 
a faithful servant, and one that you like, serve yourself.' 
And again, he adviseth to circumspection and care, even in 
the smallest matters, because sometimes 'A little neglect 
may breed great mischief;' adding, 'For want of a nail the 
shoe was lost ; for want of a shoe the horse was lost ; and 
for want of a horse the rider was lost ;' being overtaken and 
slain by the enemy, all for want of care about a horse-shoe 
nail. 

"So much for industry, my friends, and attention to one's 
own business; but to these we must add frugality, if we 
would make our industry more certainly successful. A 
man may, if he knows not how to save as he gets, 'keep his 
nose all his life to the grindstone, and die not worth a groat 
at last.' 'A fat kitchen makes a lean will,' as poor Rich- 
ard says; and, 

. . 'Many estates are spent in the getting, 

.H Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, 

V And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.' 

" 'If you would be wealthy, (says he, in another Alma- 
nac) think of saving, as well as of getting : the Indies have 
not made Spain rich, because her outgoes are greater than 
her incomes.' 

"Away then with your expensive follies, and you will not 
have much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, 
and chargeable families; for, as poor Dick says, 

'Women and wine, game and deceit, 
Make the wealth small, and the want great.' 

"And, farther, 'What maintains one vice would bring up 



262 ESSAYS. 

two children. 1 You may think, perhaps, that a little tea, 
or a little punch now and then, diet a little more costly, 
clothes a little finer, and a little entertainment now and 

then, can be no great matter; but remember what poor 
Richard says, '•Many a little snakes a meikle ;' and, farther, 
'Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a' great 
ship;' and again, 'Who dainties love shall beggars prove;' 
and, moreover, 'Funis make fi;asts, and wise men eat them.' 
"Here you are all git together at this sale of fineries and 
nicknacks. You call them goods; but if you do not take 
care, they will prove evils to sohae of you. You expect 
they will be sold cheap, and perhaps they may for less than 
they cost; but if you have no occasion for them, they must 
be dear to you. Remember what poor Richard says, 'Buy 
what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy 
necessaries.' And again, 'At a great pennyworth pause a 
while.' He means, that perhaps the. cheapness is apparent 
only, or not real; or the bargain, by straitening thee in thy 
business, may do thee more harm than good. For in an- 
other place he says, 'Many have been ruined by buying 
good pennyworths.' Again, as poor Richard says, 'It is 
foolish to lay out money in a purchase of repentance;' aud 
yet this folly is practised every day at auctions, for want of 
minding the Almanac. 'Wi>e men (as poor Dick says) 
learn by others 1 harms, fools scarcely by their own ; hut 
Felix quern faciunt a'iena perimda cawtumJ Many a 
one, for the sake of finery on the back, have gone with a 
hungry belly, and half starved their families: 'Silk and sat- 
ins, scarlet and velvets, (as poor Richard says) put out the 
kitchen fire.' These are not. the necessaries of life ; they 
can scarcely be called the conveniences; and yet only be- 
cause they look pretty, how many want, to have them } The 
artificial wants of mankind thus become more numerous 
than the natural; and as poor Dick says, 'For one poor 
person there are a hundred indigent.' By these and other 
extravagances, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and for- 
ced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but 
who, through industry and frugalit}', have maintained their 
standing; in which case, it appears plainly, 'A ploughman 
on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees,' as poor 
Richard says. Perhaps they have had a small estate left 
them, which they knew not the getting of; they think, 'It is 



ESSAYS. 263 

day, and will never be night ;' that a little to be spent out of 
so much is not worth minding: 'A child and a fool,' as poor 
Richard says, 'imagine twenty shillings and twenty years 
can never be spent ; bat always be taking out of the meal- 
tub, and never putting in, soon comes to the bottom ;' then, 
as poor Dick says, 'When the well is dry they know the 
worth of water.' But this they might have known before, 
if they had taken his advice : 'If you would know the value 
of money, go and try to borrow some ; for he that goes a 
borrowing goes a sorrowing; and, indeed, so does he that 
lends to such people, when he goes to get it again. Poor 
Dick farther advises, and says, 

•Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse : 
Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse.' 

And again, 'Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a great 
deal more saucy.' When you have bought one fine thing, 
you must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all 
of a piece ; but poor Dick says, 'It is easier to suppress the 
first desire, than to satisfy all that follow it.' And it is as 
truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as the frog to swell, 
in order to equal the ox. 

'Vessels large may venture more, 
But little boats should keep near shore.' 

'Tis, however, a folly soon punished ; for 'Pride that dines 
on vanity, sups on contempt,' as poor Richard says. And, 
in another place, 'Pride breakfasted with Plenty, dined 
with Poverty, and supped with Infamy.' And, after all, 
of what use is this pride of appearance, for which so much 
is risked, so much is suffered? It cannot promote health, 
or ease pain, it makes no increase of merit in the person : it 
creates envy; it hastens misfortune. 

'What is a butterfly? at best, 
He's but a caterpillar dress'd; 
The gaudy fop's his picture just,' 

as poor Richard says. 

'"But what madness must it be to run in debt for these su- 
perfluities! We are offered by the terms of this sale six 
months' credit; and that perhaps has induced some of us to 
attend it, because we cannot spare the ready money, and 



264 ESSAYS. 

hope now to be fine without it. But, ah ! think what you 
do when you run in debt. You give to another power over 
your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be 
ashamed to see your creditor: you will be in fear when you 
speak to him ; you will ' make poor, pitiful, sneak- 
ing excuses, and by degrees come to lose your ve- 
racity, and sink into base downright lying; for, as 
poor Richard says, 'The second vice is lying; the 
first is running in debt.' And again, to the same 
purpose, 'Lying rides upon debt's back;' whereas a free- 
born Englishman ought not to be ashamed nor afraid to 
speak to any man living. But poverty often deprives a 
man of all spirit and virtue : 'It is hard for an empty bag to 
stand upright,' as poor Richard truly says. What would 
you think of that prince, or that government, who would is- 
sue an edict, forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or 
gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude? 
Would you not say, that you were free, have a right to dress 
as you please, and that such an edict would be a hreach of 
your privileges, and such a government tyrannical? And 
yet you are about to put yourself under that tyranny when 
you run in debt for such dress! Your creditor has author- 
ity, at his pleasure, to deprive you of your liherty, by con- 
fining you in goal for life, or by selling you for a servant, if 
you should not be able to pay him. ^V v hen you have got 
your bargain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment; 
but 'Creditors' poor Richard tells us, 'have better memories 
than debtors :' and in another place he says, 'Creditors are 
a superstitious sect, great observers of set days and times.' 
The day comes round before you are aware, and the de- 
mand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it. Or if 
you bear your debt in mind, the term which at first seemed 
so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time 
will seem to have added wings to his heels as well as at his 
shoulders. 'Those have a short Lent,' saith poor Richard, 
'who owe money to be paid at Easter.' Then since, as he 
says, 'The borrower is a slave to the lender, and the debtor 
to the creditor;' disdain the chain, preserve your freedom, 
and maintain your independency : be industrious and free; 
be frugal and free. At present, perhaps, you may think 
yourselves in thriving circumstances, and that you can bcai 
a little extravagance without injury ; but, 



ESSAYS. 265 

* For age and want save while you may, 
No morning sun Jasts a whole day,' 

as poor Richard says. Gain may be temporary and un- 
certain ; but ever, while you live, expense is constant and 
certain : and ' it is easier to build two chimnies than to keep 
one in fuel,' as poor Richard says. So ' Rather go to bed 
supperless than rise in debt.' 

4 Get what you can, and what you get hold, 

'Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold,' 

as poor Richard says. And when you have got the philos- 
opher's stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad 
times, or the difficulty of paying taxes. 

" This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom : but, 
after all, do not depend too much upon your own industry 
and frugality, and prudence, though excellent things; for 
they may be blasted without the blessing of Heaven : and 
therefore ask that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable 
to those that at present seem to want it, but comfort and 
help them. Remember Job suffered and was afterwards 
prosperous. 

" And now to conclude, ' Experience keeps a dear school ; 
but fools will leam in no other, and scarce in that ; for it is 
true, we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct,' as 
poor Richard says. However, remember this, ' They that 
will not be counselled, cannot be helped,' as poor Richard 
says ; and, further, that ' If you will not hear Reason, she 
will surely rap your knuckles.' " 

Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The peo- 
ple heard it, and approved the doctrine, and immediately 
practised the contrary, just as if it had been a common 
sermon ; for the auction opened, and they began to buy ex- 
travagantly, notwithstanding all his cautions and their own 
fear of taxes. I found the good man had thoroughly 
studied my almanacs, and digested all I had dropped on 
those topics during the course of twenty-five years. The 
frequent mention he made of me must have tired every 
one else ; but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, 
though I was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom 
was my own, which he ascribed to me, but rather the glean- 
ings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. 
However T resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and 
23 M 



266 ESSAYS. 

though I had first determined to buy stuff for a new coat» 
I went away, resolved to wear my old one a little longer. 
Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy profit will be as great 
as mine. 

I am, as ever, thine to serve thee, 

RICHARD SAUNDERS. 



THE INTERNAL STATE OF AMERICA. 

BEING A TRUE DESCRIPTION OF THE INTEREST AND 
POLICY OF THAT VAST CONTINENT. 

There is a tradition that in the planting of New England 
the first settlers met with many difficulties and hardships : 
as is generally the case when a civilized people attempt es- 
tablishing themselves in a wilderness country. Being pi- 
ously disposed, they sought relief from Heaven, by laying 
their wants and distresses before the Lord, in frequent set 
days of fasting and prayer. Constant meditation and dis- 
course on these subjects kept their minds gloomy and dis- 
contented : and, like the children of Israel, there were 
many disposed to return to that Egypt which persecution 
had induced them to abandon. At length, when it was 
proposed in the Assembly to proclaim another fast, a far- 
mer of plain sense rose and remarked, that the inconve- 
niences they suffered, and concerning which they had so of- 
ten wearied Heaven with their complaints, were not so 
great as they might have expected, and were diminishing 
every day as the colony strengthened ; that the earth began 
to reward their labor, and to furnish liberally for their sub- 
sistence; that the seas and rivers were found full of fish; 
the air sweet, the climate healthy; and, above all, tha 
they were in the full enjoyment of .liberty, civil and religious: 
he therefore thought, that reflecting and conversing on these 
subjects would be more comfortable, as tending more to 
make them contented with their situation; and that it 
would be more becoming the gratitude they owed the Divine 
Being, if, instead of a fast, they should proclaim a thanksgiv- 
ing. His advice was taken ; and, from that day to this, they 
have, in every year, observed circumstances of public fe- 



ESSAYS. 267 

licity sufficient to furnish employment for a thanksgiving 
day ; which is, therefore, constantly ordered and religiously 
observed. 

I see in the public newspapers of different States, fre- 
quent complaints of hard Limes, deadness of trade, scarcity 
of money, Sec. &c. It is not mj intention to assert or 
maintain that tiiese complaints are entirely without foun- 
dation. There can be no country or nation existing, in 
which there will not be some people so circumstanced as to 
find it hard to gain a livelihood ; people who are not in the 
way of any profitable trade, with whom money is scarce, 
because they have nothing to give in exchange for it; and 
it is always in the power of a small number to make a great 
clamor. Br.t let us take a cool view of the general state of 
our affairs, and perhaps the prospect will appear less gloomy 
than has been imagined. 

The great business of the continent is agriculture. For 
one artisan, or merchant, I suppose we have at least one 
-hundred farmers, by far the greatest part cultivators of their 
own fertile lands, from whence many of them draw not 
only food necessary for their, subsistence, but the materi- 
als of their clothing, so as to need very few foreign sup- 
plies ; while they have a surplus of productions to dispose 
of, whereby wealth is gradually accumulated. Such has 
been the goodness of Divine Providence to these regions, 
and so favorable the climate, that, since the three or four 
years of hardship in the first settlement of our fathers here, 
a famine or scarcity has never been heard of amongst us ; on 
the contrary, though some years may have been more and 
others less plentiful, there has always been provision enough 
for ourselves and a quantity to spare for exportation. And al- 
though the crops of last year were generally good, never was 
the farmer better paid for the part he can spare commerce, as 
the published price-currents abundantly testify. The lands 
he possesses are also continually rising in value with the h> 
crease of population ; and, on the whole, he is enabled to 
give such good wages to those who work for him, that all 
who are acquainted with the old world must agree, that in 
no part of it are the laboring poor so generally well fed, well 
clothed, well lodged, and well paid, as in the United States 
of America. 
If we enter the cities, we find that since the Revolution, 



2G8 ESSAYS. 

the owners of houses and lots of ground have had their in- 
terest vastly augmented in value; rents have risen to an 
astonishing height, and thence encouragement to increase 
building, which gives employment to an abundance of work- 
men, as does also the increased luxury and splendor of living 
of the inhabitants thus made richer. Those workmen all 
demand and obtain much higher wages than any other part 
of the world would afford them, and are paid in ready money. 
This rank of people therefore do not, or ought not, to com- 
plain of hard times; and they make a very considerable 
part of the city inhabitants. 

At the distance I live from our American fisheries, I can- 
not speak of them with any degree of certainty; but I have 
not heard that the labor of the valuable race of men em- 
ployed in them is worse paid, or that they meet with less 
success, than before the Revolution. The whalemen, in- 
deed, have been deprived of one market for their oil, but 
another, I hear, is opening for them, which it is hoped may 
be equally advantageous; and the demand is constantly in- 
creasing for their spermaceti candles, which therefore bear 
a much higher price than formerly. 

There remain the merchants and shopkeepers. Of these, 
though they make but a small part of the whole nation, the 
number is considerable, too great indeed for the business 
they are employed in ; for the consumption of goods in ev- 
ery country has its limits; the faculties of the people, that 
is, their ability to buy and pay are equal to a certain quan- 
tity of merchandise. If merchants calculate amiss on this 
proportion, and import too much, they will of course find 
the sale dull for the overplus, and some of them will say 
that trade languishes. They should, and doubtless will, 
grow wiser by experience, and import less. 

If too many artificers in town, and fanners from the coun- 
try, flattering themselves with the idea of leading easier 
lives, turn shopkeepers, the whole natural quantity of that 
business divided among them all, may afford too small a 
share for each, and occasion complaints that trading is dead : 
these may also suppose that it is owing to scarcity of money ; 
while, in fact, it is not so much from the fewness of buyers, 
as from the excessive number of sellers, that the mischief 
aries ; and if every shopkeeping fanner and mechanic would 
return to the use of his plough and working tools, there 

23* 



ESSAYS. 269 

would remain of widows and other women, shopkeepers suf- 
ficient for the business, which might then afford them a 
comfortable maintenance. 

Whoever has travelled through the various parts of Eu- 
rope, and observed how small is the proportion of people in 
affluence or easy circumstances there, compared with those 
in poverty and misery : The few rich and haughty land- 
lords, the multitude of poor, abject, rack-rented, tythe-pay- 
ing tenants, and half-paid, and half-starved, ragged laborers ; 
and views here the happy mediocrity that so generally pre- 
vails throughout these States, where the cultivator works for 
himself and supports his family in decent plenty ; will, me- 
thinks, see abundant reason to bless Divine Providence 
for the evident and great difference in our favor, and be 
convinced that no nation known to us- enjoys a greater share 
Of human felicity. 

It is true that in some of the States there are parties and 
discords ; but let us look back, and ask if we were ever with- 
out them? Such will exist wherever there is liberty ; and 
perhaps they help to preserve it. By the collision of differ- 
ent sentiments, sparks of truth are struck out, and political 
light is obtained. The different factions which at present 
divide us, aim all at the public good ; the differences are only 
about the various modes of promoting it. Things, actions, 
measures, and objects of all kinds, present themselves to 
the minds of men in such a variety of lights, that it is not 
possible we should all think alike at the same time on eve- 
ry subject, when hardly the same man retains at all times 
the same ideas of it. Parties are, therefore, the common 
lot of humanity ; and ours are by no means more mischie- 
vous or less beneficial than those of other countries, nations, 
and ages, enjoying in the same degree the great blessing of 
political liberty. 

Some indeed among us are not so much grieved for the 
present state of our affairs, as apprehensive for the future. 
The growth of luxury alarms them, and they think we are 
from that alone on the high road to ruin. They observe, 
that no revenue is sufficient without economy, and that the 
most plentiful income of a whole people from the natural 
productions of their country may be dissipated in vain and 
needless expenses ; and poverty be introduced in the place 
of affluence. — This may be possible. It however rarely 



270 ESSAYS. 

happens; for there seems to be in every nation a greater 
proportion of industry and frugality, \\ hich tend to enrich, 
than of idleness and prodigality, which occasion poverty ; 
so that upon the whole, there is a continual accumulation. 
Reflect what Spain, Gaul, Germany, and Britain were in 
the time of the Romans, inhabited by people little richer 
than our savages, and consider the wealth that they at pre- 
sent possess, in numerous well-built cities, improved farms, 
rich moveables, magazines stocked with valuable manufac- 
tories, to say nothing of plate, jewels, and coined money ; 
and all this, notwithstanding their bad, wasteful, plundering 
governments, and their mad, destructive wars; and yet lux- 
uiy and extravagant living has never suffered much restraint 
in those countries. Then consider the great proportion of 
industrious frugal farmers inhabiting the interior parts of 
these American States, and of whom the. body of our na- 
tion consists, and judge whether it is possible that the luxury 
of our sea-ports can be sufficient to ruin such a country. — 
If the importation of foreign luxuries could ruin a people, 
we should probably have been ruined long ago ; for the Bri- 
tish nation claimed a right and practised it, of importing 
among us not only the superfluities of their own production, 
but those of every nation under Heaven ; we bought and 
consumed them, and yet we flourished and grew rich. At 
present our independent governments may do what we 
could not then do, discourage by heavy duties, or prevent 
by heavy prohibitions, such importations, and thereby grow 
richer; — if, indeed, which may admit of dispute, the desire 
of adorning ourselves with fine clothes, possessing fine fur- 
niture, with elegant houses, &c. is not, by strongly inciting 
to labor and industry, the occasion of producing a greater 
value than is consumed in the gratification of that desire. 

The agriculture and fisheries of the United States are the 
great sources of our increasing wealth. He that puts a seed 
into the earth is recompensed, perhaps, by receiving forty 
out of it, and he who draws a fish out of our water draws 
up a piece of silver. 

Let us (and there is no doubt but we shall) be attentive 
to these, and then the power of rivals, with all their restrain 
ing and prohibiting acts, cannot much hurt us. We are 
sons of the earth and seas, and like Antaeus in the fable, if 
in wrestling with a Hercules, we now and then receive a 



ESSAYS. 271 

fall, the touch of our parents will communicate to us fresh 
strength and vigor to renew the contest. 



INFORMATION TO THOSE WHO WOULD RE- 
MOVE TO AMERICA. 

Many persons in Europe have directly or by letters ex- 
pressed to the writer of this, who is well acquainted with 
North America, their desire of transporting and establishing 
themselves in that country, but who appear to have formed, 
through ignorance, mistaken ideas and expectations of what 
is to be obtained there ; he thinks it may be useful, and 
prevent inconvenient, expensive and fruitless removals and 
voyages of improper persons, if he gives some clearer and 
truer notions of that part Of the world than appear to have 
hitherto prevailed. 

He finds it is imagined by numbers, that the inhabitants 
of North America are rich, capable of rewarding, and dis- 
posed to reward all sorts of ingenuity ; that they are at the 
same time ignorant of all the sciences, and consequent!} 1- 
that strangers, possessing talents in the belles-lettres, fine 
arts, &c. must be highly esteemed, and so well paid as to 
become easily rich themselves ; that there are also abun- 
dance of profitable orfices to be disposed of which the na- 
tives are not qualified to fill ; and that having few per- 
sons of family among them, strangers of birth must be 
greatly respected, and of course easily obtain the best of 
those oifices, which will make all their fortunes : that the 
governments, too, to encourage emigrations from Europe, 
not onty pay the expense of personal transportation, but 
give lands gratis to strangers, with negroes to work for them, 
utensils of husbandly, and stocks of cattle. These are all 
wild imaginations; and those who go to America with ex- 
pectations founded upon them, will surely find themselves 
disappointed. 

.The truth is, that though there are in that country few 
people so miserable as the poor of Europe, there are also 
very few that in Europe would be called rich : it is rather a 
general happy mediocrity that prevails. There are few 
great proprietors of the soil, and few tenants; most 



272 ESSAYS. 

people cultivate their own lands, or follow some hand* 
icraft or merchandise; very few rich enough to live idly 
upon their rents or incomes, or to pay the high prices 
given in Europe for painting, statues, architecture, and 
the other works of art that are more curious than useful. 
Hence the natural geniuses that have arisen in America, 
with such talents, have uniformly quitted that country for 
Europe, where they can be more suitably rewarded. It is 
true that letters and mathematical knowledge are in esteem 
there, but they are at the same time more common than is 
apprehended ; there being already existing nine colleges or 
universities, viz : four in New England, and one in each of 
tiie provinces of New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, 
Maryland, and Virginia — all furnished with learned pro- 
fessors; besides a number of smaller academies: these ed- 
ucate many of their youth in the languages, and those sci- 
ences that qualify men for the professions of divinity, law, or 
physic. Strangers, indeed, are by no means excluded from 
<\. nising those professions; and the quick increase of in- 
habitants every where gives them a chance of employ which 
they have in common with the natives. Of civil offices or 
employments, there are few ; no superfluous ones, as in 
Europe; and it is a rule established in some of the States, 
that no office should be so profitable as to make it desirable. 
The 3fith article of the Constitution of Pennsylvania runs 
expressly in these words: 4 As every freeman to preserve 
his independence (if he has not a sufficient estate,) ought 
to have some profession, calling, trade, or farm, whereby 
he may honestly subsist, there can be no necessity for, nor 
use in establishing offices of profit ; the usual effects of 
which are dependence and servility; unbecoming freemen, 
in the possessors and expectants; faction, contention, corrup- 
tion, and disorder among the people. Wherefore, when- 
ever an office, through increase of fees or otherwise, be- 
comes so profitable as to occasion many to apply for it, ths 
profits ought to be lessened by the legislature. ' 

These ideas prevailing more or less in the United States, 
it cannot be worth any man's while, who has a means o*" 
living at home, to expatriate himself in hopes of obtaining 
a profitable civil office in America ; and as to military offi- 
ces, they are at an end with the w r ar, the armies being dis- 
banded. Much less is it advisable for a person to go thi- 



ESSAYS. 273 

ther, who has no other quality to recommend him than his 
birth. In Europe it has indeed its value ;. but it is a com- 
modity that cannot be carried to a worse market than to 
that of America, where people do not enquire concerning a 
stranger, What is he? but What can he do? If he has 
any useful art, he is welcome ; and if he exercises it, and 
behaves well, he will be respected by all that know him : 
but a mere man of quality, who on that account wants to 
live upon the public by some office or salary, will be despised 
and disregarded. The husbandman is in honor there, and 
even the mechanic, because their employments are useful. 
The people have a saying that God Almighty is himself a 
mechanic, the greatest in the universe ; and he is respected 
and admired more for the variety, ingenuity, and utility of 
his handicraft works, than for the antiquity of his family. 
They are pleased with the observation of a negro, and fre- 
quently mention it, that Boccarorra (meaning the white 
man) make de black man workee, make de horse workee, 
make de ox workee, make ebety ting workee, only de hog. 
He, de hog, no workee ; he eat, he drink, he walk about, he 
go to sleep when he please, he libb like a gentleman. Ac- 
cording to these opinions of the Americans, one of them 
would think himself more obliged to a genealogist who 
could prove for him that his ancestors and relations for ten 
generations had been ploughmen, smiths, carpenters, turn- 
ers, weavers, tanners, or even shoemakers, and consequent- 
ly that th&y were useful members of society : than if he 
could only prove that they were gentlemen, doing nothing 
of value, but living idty on the labor of others, mere fruges 
consumere natl^' and otherwise good for nothing, till by 
their death their estates, like the carcass of the negro's gen- 
tleman-hog, come to be cut up. 

With regard to encouragements for strangers from govern- 
ment, thejr are really only what are derived from good laws 
and liberty. Strangers are welcome because there is room 
enough for them all, and therefore the old inhabitants are 
not jealous of them ; the laws protect them sufficiently, so 
that they have no need of the patronage of great men ; and 
every one will enjoy securely the profits of his industry. 

* born 

Merely to cat up the corn. 

Watts. 

m2 



274 ESSAYS. 

But if he does not bring a fortune with him he must work and 
be industrious to live. One or two years resilience give him 
all the rights of a citizen ; but the government does not at 
present, whatever it may have done in former times, hire 
people to become sealers, by paying their passage, giving 
land, negroes, in ■ i i-ils, stock, or any other kind of emolument 
whatsoever. h\ short, America is the land oflabor, and by 
no means what the English call Lubbuiand, and the French 
Pays de Cocaguc, where the streets are said to be paved 
with half peck loaves, the houses tiled with pancakes, and 
where the fowls fly about ready roasted, crying come eat me.' 

Who then are the kind of persons to whom an emigration 
to America may be advantageous? And what are the ad- 
vantages they may reasonably expect? 

Land being cheap in that country, from the vast forests 
still void of inhabitants, and not likely to be occupied in an 
age to come, insomuch that the property of a hundred acres 
of fertile soil, full of wood, may be obtained near the fron- 
tiers in many places for eight or ten guineas, hearty young la- 
boring men, who understand the husbandly of corn and cattle, 
which is nearly tiie same in that country as in Europe, may ea- 
sily establish themselves there. A little money saved of the 
good wages they receive there while they work for others, 
enables them to buy the land and begin their plantation, in 
which they are assisted by the good will of their neighbors 
and some credit. Multitudes of poor people from England, 
Ireland, Scotland, and Germany have by this means in a few 
years become wealthy farmers, who in their own countries, 
where all the lands are fully occupied, and the wages of labor 
low, could never have emerged from the mean condition 
wherein they were bom. 

From the salubrity of the air, the healthiness of the cli- 
mate, the plenty of good provisions, and the encouragement 
to early marriages, by the certainty of subsistence in culti- 
vating the earth, the increase of inhabitants by natural gen- 
eration is very rapid in America, and becomes still more so 
by the accession of strangers : hence there is a continual 
demand for more artisans of all the necessary and useful 
kinds, to supply those cultivators of the earth with houses, 
and with furniture and utensils of the grosser sorts, which 
cannot so well be brought from Europe, Tolerably good 
workmen in any of those mechanic arts are sure to find em- 



ESSAYS. 275 

ploj', and to be well paid for their work, there being no re- 
straints preventing strangers from exercising any art they 
understand, nor any permission necessary. If they arc 
poor, they begin first as servants or journeymen; and if 
they are sober, industrious, and frugal, they soon become 
masters, establish themselves in business, marry, raise fam- 
ilies, and become respectable citizens. 

Also, persons of moderate families and capitals, who, 
having a number of children to provide for, are desirous of 
bringing them up to industry, and to secure estates to their 
posterity, have opportunities of doing it in America which 
Europe does not afford. There they may be taught and 
practise profitable mechanic arts, without incurring disgrace 
on that account ; but on the contrary, acquiring respect to 
such abilities. Their small capitals laid out in lands, 
which daily become more valuable by the increase of peo- 
ple, afford a solid prospect of ample fortunes thereafter for 
those children. The writer of this has known seve- 
ral instances of large tracts of land bought on what was 
then the frontiers of Pennsylvania, for ten pounds per hun- 
dred acres, which, after twenty years, when the settlements 
had been extended far beyond them, sold readily, without 
any improvement made upon them, for three pounds 
per acre. The acre in America is the same with the Eng- 
lish acre, or the acre of Normandy. 

Those who desire to understand the state of government 
in America, would do well to read the Constitutions of the 
several States, and the articles of confederation which bind 
the whole together for general purposes, under the direction 
of one Assembly, called the Congress. These constitutions 
have been printed by order of Congress in America; two 
editions of them have been printed in London ; and a good 
translation of them into French has lately been published at 
Paris. 

Several of the Princes of Europe having of late, from an 
opinion of advantage to arise by producing all commodities 
and manufactures within their own dominions^ so as to di- 
minish or render useless their importations, have endeavor- 
ed to entice workmen from other countries, by high salaries, 
privileges, &c. Many persons pretending to be skilled in 
various great manufactures, imagining that America must 
be in want of them, and that the Congress would probably 



27G ESSAYS. 

be disposed to imilnte the princes above mentioned, have 
proposed to go over on condition of having their passa- 
ges paid, lands given, salaries appointed, exclusive privileges 
for terms of years, &c. Such persons, on reading the arti- 
cles of confederation, will find that the Congress have 
no power committed to them, or money put into their 
hands, for such purposes; and that, if any such encourage- 
ment is given, it must be b) r the government of some sepa- 
rate state. This, however has rarely been done in Ameri- 
ca; and when it has been done, it lias rarely succeeded, so 
as to establish a manufacture, which the country was not 
yet so ripe for as to encourage private persons to set it up ; 
labor being generally too dear, and hands difficult to be 
kept together, every one desiring to be a master, and the 
cheapness of land inclining many to leave trades for agri- 
culture. Some, indeed, have met with success, and are 
carried on to advantage ; but they are generally such as re- 
quire only a few hands, or wherein great part of the work is 
performed by machines. Goods that are bulky, and of so 
small a value as not well to bear the expense of freight, 
may often be made cheaper in the country than they can be 
imported ; and the manufacture of such goods will be profit- 
able wherever there is a sufficient demand. The farmers in 
America produce indeed a good deal of wool and flax, and 
none is exported — it is all worked up; but it is in the way 
of domestic manufacture, for the use of the family. The 
buying up quantities of wool and flax, with the design to 
employ spinners, weavers, «fcc. and form great establish- 
ments, producing quantities of linen and woollen goods for 
sale, has been several times attempted in different provinces; 
but those projects have generally failed, goods of equal value 
being imported cheaper. And when the governments have 
been solicited to support such schemes by encouragements 
in money, or by imposing duties on importation of such 
goods, it has been generally refused, on this principle, that 
if the country is ripe for the manufacture, it may be carried 
on by private persons to advantage: and, if not, it is folly' 
to think of forcing nature. Great establishments of manu- 
facture require great numbers of poor to do the work for 
small wages; those poorare to be found in Europe, but will 
not be found-in America, till the lands are all taken up and 
cultivated, and the excess of people who cannot eret land 



ESSAYS. 277 

want employment. The manufacture of silk, they say, is 
natural in France, as that of cloth in England, because 
each country produces in plenty the first material ; but if 
England will have a manufacture of silk as well as that 
of cloth, and France of cloth as well as that of silk, these 
unnatural operations must be supported by mutual prohibi- 
tions, or high duties on the importation of each other's goods ; 
by which means the workmen are enabled to tax the home- 
consumer by greater prices, while the higher wages they re- 
ceive makes them neither happier nor richer, since they on- 
ly drink more and work less. Therefore the governments in 
America do nothing to encourage such projects. The people 
by this means are not imposed on either by the merchant or 
mechanic : if the merchant demands too much profit on im- 
ported shoes, they buy of the shoemaker; and if he asks 
too high a price, they take them of the merchant : thus the 
two professions are checks on each other. The shoemaker 
however has, on the whole, a considerable profit upon his 
labor in America, beyond what he had in Europe, as he 
can add to his price a sum nearly equal to all the expenses 
of freight and commission, risk or assurance, &c. necessa- 
rily charged by the merchant. And the case is the same 
with the workmen in every other mechanic art. Hence it 
is that the artisans generally live better and more easily in 
America than in Europe ; and such as are good economists 
make a comfortable provision for age, and for their chil- 
dren. Such may, therefore, remove with advantage to 
America. 

In the old, long-settled countries of Europe, all arts, 
trades, professions, farms, &c. are so full that it is difficult 
for a poor man who has children to place them where they 
may gain, or learn to gain, a decent livelihood. The arti- 
sans who fear creating future rivals in business, refuse to take 
apprentices, but upon conditions of money, maintenance, 
or the like, which the parents are unable to comply with. 
Hence the youth are dragged up in ignorance of every 
gainful art, and obliged to become soldiers, or servants, or 
thieves, for a subsistence. In America the rapid increase 
of inhabitants takes away that fear of rivalship, and arti- 
sans wElingly receive apprentices from the hope of profit by 
their labor, during the remainder of the time stipulated, af- 
ter they shall be instructed. Hence it is easy for poor fami" 
24 



278 ESSAYS. 

lies to get their children instructed ; for the artisans are so de- 
sirous of apprentices, that many of them will even give mo- 
ney to the parent?, to have boys from ten to fifteen years 
of age, bound apprentices to them till the age of twenty- 
one; and many poor parents have, by that means, on their 
arrival in the country, raised money enough to buy land suf- 
ficient to establish themselves, and to subsist the rest of the 
family by agriculture. These contracts for apprentices are 
made before a magistrate, who regulates the agreement ac- 
cording to reason and justice; and having in view the form- 
ation of a future useful citizen, obliges the roaster to engage 
by a written indenture, not only that, during the time of 
sen ice stipulated, the apprentice shall be duly provided 
with meat, drink, apparel, washing, and lodging, and at its 
expiration with a complete new suit of clothes, but also, 
that he shall be taught to- read, write, and cast accounts; 
and that he shall be well instructed in the art or profession 
of his master, or some other, by which he may afterwards 
gain a livelihood, and be able in his turn to raise a family. 
A copy of this indenture is given to the apprentice or his 
friends, and the magistrate keeps a record of it, to which 
recourse may be had, in case of failure by the master in any 
point of performance. This desire among the masters to 
have more hands employed in working for them, induces 
them to pay the passage of young persons of both sexes, 
who, on their arrival, agree to serve them one, two, three, 
or four years ; those who have already learned a trade, agree- 
ing for a shorter term, in proportion to their skill, and the 
consequent immediate value of their service ; and those 
who have none, agreeing for a longer term, in consideration 
of being taught an art their poverty would not permit them 
to acquire in their own country. 

The almost general mediocrity of fortune that prevails in 
America, obliging its people to follow some business for 
subsistence, those vices that arise usually from idleness are in 
a great measure prevented. Industry and constant employ- 
ment are great preservatives of the morals and virtue of 
a nation. Hence bad examples to youth are more rare in 
America, which must be a comfortable consideration to pa- 
rents. To this may be truly added, that serious religion, 
under its various denominations, is not only tolerated but 
respected and practised. Atheism is unknown there; and 



ESSAYS. 279 

infidelity rare and secret ; so that persons may live to a great 
•age in that country without having their piety shocked by 
meeting with either an atheist or an infidel. And the Di- 
vine Being seems to have manifested his approbation of the 
mutual forbearance and kindness with which the different 
eects treat each other, b3 r the remarkable prosperity with 
which He has been pleased to favor the whole country. 



THOUGHTS ON COMMERCIAL SUBJECTS. 
OF EMBARGOES UPON CORN, AND OF THE POOR. 

In inland high countries, remote from the sea, and whose 
rivers are small, running from the country and not to it, 
as is the case with Switzerland ; great distress may arise 
from a course of bad harvests, if public granaries are not 
provided and kept well stored. Anciently, too, before nav- 
igation was so general, ships so plenty, and commercial 
transactions so well established, even maritime countries 
might be occasionally distressed by bad crops. But such is 
now the facility of communication between those countries, 
that an unrestrained commerce can scarce ever fail of pro- 
curing a sufficiency for any of them. If indeed any gov- 
ernment is so imprudent as to lay its hands on imported 
com, forbid its exportation, or compel its sale at limited 
prices, there the people may suffer some famine from 
merchants avoiding their ports. But wherever commerce 
is known to be always free, and the merchant absolute 
master of his commodity, as in Holland, there will always 
be a reasonable supply. 

When an exportation of corn takes place, occasioned by 
a higher price in some foreign countries, it is common to 
raise a clamor, on the supposition that we shall thereby pro- 
duce a domestic famine. Then follows a prohibition 
founded on the imaginary distresses of the poor. The poor 
to be sure, if in distress, should be relieved ; but if the far- 
mer could have a high price for his corn from the foreign 
demand, must he by a prohibition of exportation be com- 
pelled to take a low price, not of the poor only, but of every 
.one that eats bread, even the richest'? The duty of reliev- 



280 ESSAYS. 

ing the poor is incumbent on the rich ; but by this operation 
the whole burden of it. is laid on the fanner, who is to re- 
lieve the rich at the same time. Of the poor, too, those 
who are maintained by the parishes have no right to claim 
this sacrifice of the fanner; as while they have their allow- 
ance, it makes no difference to them whether bread be cheap 
or dear. Those working poor, who now mind business only 
five Ox four days in the week, if bread should be so dear as 
to oblige them to work the whole six required by the com- 
mandment, do not seem to be aggrieved, so as to have a 
right to public redress. There will then remain, compara- 
tively, only a feu families in every district, who, from sick- 
ness or a great number of children, will be so distressed by 
a high price of com as to need relief; and these should be 
taken care of by particular benefactions, without restraining 
the farmer's profit 

Those who fear that exportation may so far drain the 
country of corn, as to starve ourselves, fear what never did 
nor never can happen. They may as well, when they view 
the tide ebbing towards the sea, fear that all the water will 
leave the river. The price of com, iike water, will find 
its own level. The more we export, the dearer it becomes 
at home ; the more is received abroad, the cheaper it be- 
comes there ; and as soon as these prices are equal, the 
exportation stops of course. As the seasons vary in differ- 
ent countries, the calamity of a bad harvest is never uni- 
versal. If, then, all ports were always open, and all com- 
merce free, every maritime country would generally eat 
bread at the medium price, or average of all the harvests, 
which would probably be more equal than we can make it by 
our artificial regulations, and therefore a more steady en- 
couragement to agriculture. The nation would all have 
bread at this middle price; and that nation, which at any 
time inhumanly refuses to relieve the distresses of another 
nation, deserves no compassion when in distress itself. 

OP THE EFFECT OF DEARXESS OF PROVISIONS UPON 
WORKING, AND UPON MANUFACTURES. 

The common people do not work for pleasure gene- 
rally, but from necessity. Cheapness of provisions 
makes them more idle; less work is then done, it is then 
more in demand proportionally, and of course the price ri- 



ESSAYS, 281 

ses. Dearness of provisions obliges the manufacturer to 
work more days and more hours ; thus more work is done 
than equals the usual demand ; of course it becomes cheap- 
er, and the manufactures in consequence. 

OF AN OPEN TRADE. 

Perhaps, in general, it would be better if government 
meddled no farther with trade than to protect it, and let it 
take its course. Most of the statutes or acts, edicts, arrets, 
and placarts of parliaments, priuces, and states, for regulat- 
ing, directing, or restraining of trade, have, we thiuk, been 
either political blunders, or jobs obtained by artful men for 
private advantage, under pretence of public good. When 
Colbert assembled some of the wise old merchants of 
France, and desired their advice and opinion how he could 
best serve and promote commerce ; their answer, after con- 
sultation, was in three words only, Laissez nous /aire, 
4 Let us alone.' — It is said, by a very solid writer of the 
same nation, that he is well advanced in the science of poli- 
tics, who knows the full force of that maxim, Pas trop gou- 
verher. ' not to govern too much ;' which perhaps would be 
of more use when applied to trade than in any other pub- 
lic concern. It were therefore to be wished, that commerce 
were as free between all the nations of the world as it 
is between the several counties of England ; so would all, 
by mutual communications, obtain more enjoyments. 
Those counties do not ruin each other by trade, neither 
would the nations. No nation was ever ruined by trade, 
even, seemingly the most disadvantageous. 

Wherever desirable superfluities are imported, industry 
is excited, and thereby plenty is produced. Were only 
necessaries permitted to be purchased, men would work no 
more than was necessaiy for that purpose. 

OF PROHIBITIONS WITH RESPECT TO THE EXPORT- 
ATION OF GOLD AND SILVER. 

Could Spain and Portugal have succeeded in executing 
their foolish laws for hedging in the cuckoo, as Locke calls 
it, and have kept at home all their gold and silver, those 
metals would, by this time, have been of little more value 
than so much lead or iron. Their plenty would have lessen* 
ed their value. 
24* 



282 ESSAYS. 

We see the folly of these edicts ; but are not our own prohi- 
bitory and restrictive laws, that arc professedly made with in- 
tention to bring a balance in our favor from our trade with for- 
eign nations to be paid in money, and laws to prevent the ne- 
cessity of exporting that money, which if they could be tho- 
roughly executed, would make money as plenty and of as 
little value; I say, are not such laws akin to those Spanish 
edicts; follies of the same family ? 

' OF THE RETURNS FOR FOREIGN ARTICLES. 

In fact, the produce of other countries can hardly be ob- 
tained, unless by fraud and rapine, without giving the pro- 
duce of our land or our industry in exchange for thein. If 
we have mines of gold and silver,gold and silver may then be 
called the produce of our land; if we have not, we can only 
fairly obtain those metals by giving for them the produce of our 
land or industry. When we have them, they are then only 
thatlproducc or industry in another shape ; which we may give 
if the trade requires it and our other produce will not suit in 
exchange for the produce of some other country that furnish 
es what we have more occasion for, or more desire. When 
we have, to an inconvenient degree, parted with our gold 
dnd silver, our industry is stimulated afresh to procure more ; 
that by its means we may contrive to procure the same ad 
vantages. 

OF RESTRAINTS UPON COMMERCE IN TIME OF WAR. 

When princes make war by prohibiting commerce, each 
may hurt himself as much as his enemy. Traders, who by 
their business are promoting the common good of mankind, 
as well as farmers and fishermen, who labor for the subsis- 
tence of all, should never be interrupted or molested in their 
business, but enjoy the protection of all in the time of war, 
as well as in time of peace. 

This policy, those we are pleased to call barbarians have 
in a great measure adopted : for the trading subjects of any 
power with whom the Emperor of Morocco may be at war, 
are not liable to capture, when within sight of his land, go- 
ing or coming; and have otherwise free liberty to trade and 
reside in his dominions. 

As a maritime power, we presume it is not thought right 
that Great Britain should grant such freedom except 



ESSAYS. 283 

partially, as in the case of war with France, when tobac- 
co is allowed to be sent thither under the sanction of 

passports. 

EXCHANGES IN TRADE MAY BE GAINFUL TO EACH 
PARTY. 

In transactions of trade it is not to be supposed that, like 
gaming, what one party gains the other must necessarily 
Iqse. The gain to each may be equal. If A has more com 
than he can consume, but wants cattle ; and B has more 
cattle, but wants com, exchange is gain to each : hereby the 
common stock of comforts in life is increased. 

OF PAPER CREDIT. 

It is impossible for government to circumscribe or fix 
the extent of paper credit, which must of course fluctuate. 
Government may as well pretend to lay down rules for the 
operations or the confidence of every individual in the course 
of his trade. Any seeming temporary evil arising musr 
naturally work its own cure. 



HUMOROUS ACCOUNT 

OF A CUSTOM AMONG THE AMERICANS, ENTITLED 
WHITE-WASHING. 

ATTRIBUTED TO THE PEN OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

Although the following article has not yet appeared in any 
collection of the works of tins great philosopher, we are in- 
clined to receive the general opinion (from the plainness of 
the style, and the humor which characterizes it,) to be the 
performance of Dr. Franklin. 

My wish is to j r ougive some account of the people of these 
new states, but I am far from being qualified for the purpose, 
having as yet seen little more than the cities of N. York and 
Philadelphia. I have discovered but few national singulari- 
ties among them. Their customs and manners are nearly the 
same with those of England, which they have long been 
used to copy. For, previous to the Revolution, the Ameri- 
cans were, from their infancy, taught to look up to the Eng- 



2&1 ESSAYS. 

lish as patterns of perfection in all things. I have observ- 
ed, however, one custom, which, for aught I know, is pecu- 
liar to this country ; an account of it will serve to fill up 
the remainder ot" this sheet, and may afford you some amuse- 
ment. 

When a young couple are about to enter into the matri- 
monial state, a never-failing article in the marriage treaty is, 
that the lady shall have and enjoy the free and unmolested 
exercise of the rights of white-washing, with all its ceremo- 
nials, privileges, aild appurtenances. A young woman 
would forego the most advantageous connexion, and even 
disappoint the warmest wish of her heart, rather than re- 
sign the invaluable right. You would wonder what this 
privilge of white-washing is : I will endeavor to give you 
some idea of the ceremony, as I have seen it performed. 

There is no season of the year in which the lady may not 
claim her privilege, if she pleases; but the latter end of May 
is most generally fixed upon for. the purpose. The atten- 
tive husband may judge by certain prognostics when the 
storm is nigh at hand. When the lady is unusually fretful, 
finds fault with the servants, is discontented with the chil 
dren, and complains much of the filthiness of everything 
about her — these are signs which ought not to be neglected ; 
yet they are not decisive, as they sometimes come on and go 
off again, without producing any farther effect. But. if, when 
the husband rises in the morning, he should observe in the 
yard a wheelbarrow with a quantity of lime in it, or should 
see certain buckets with lime dissolved in water, there is then 
no time to be lost ; he immediately locks up the apartment or 
closet where his papers or his private property is kept, and 
putting the key in his pocket, betakes himself to flight: for, 
a husband, however beloved, becomes a perfect nuisance 
during this season of female rage, his authority is supersed- 
ed, his commission is suspended, and the very scullion, who 
cleans the brasses in the kitchen, becomes of more conside- 
ration and importance than him. He has nothing for it, 
but to abdicate and run from an evil which he' can neither 
prevent nor mollify. 

The husband gone, the ceremony begins. The walls are 
in a few minutes stripped of their furniture ; paintings, 
prints, and looking-glasses lie in a huddled heap about the 
floors; the curtains are torn from the testers, the beds cram- 



ESSAYS. 285 

sned into the windows ; chairs and tables, bedsteads and 
cradles, crowd the yard ; and the garden fence bends be- 
neath the weight of carpets, blankets, cloth cloaks, old 
coats, and ragged breeches. Here may be seen the lumber 
of the- kitchen, forming a dark and confused mass, for the 
foreground of the picture, gridirons and fryingpans, rusty 
shovels and broken tongs, spits and pots, and the fractured 
remains of rush-bottomed chairs. There a closet has dis- 
gorged its bowels, cracked tumblers, broken wine-glasses, 
phials of forgotten physic, papers of unknown powders, 
seeds and dried herbs, handfuls of old corks, tops of tea- 
pots, and stoppers of departed decanters ; — from the raghole 
in the garret to the rathole in the cellar, no place escapes 
imrummaged. It would seem as if the day of general 
doom Avas come, and the utensils of the house were dragged 
forth to judgment. In this tempest the words of Lear nat- 
urally present themselves, and might, with some alteration, 
be made strictly applicable : 

-' Let the great gods, 



That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads, 
Find out their enemies now. Tremhle, thou wretch, 
That hast within thee, undivulged crimes 
Unwhipt of justice !' 

' Close pent-up guilt, 

Raise your concealing continents, and ask 
These dreadful summoners grace 1' 

This ceremony completed, and the house thoroughly 
evacuated, the next operation is to smear the walls and ceil- 
ings of every room and closet with brushes dapped in a so- 
lution of lime, called white-icash; to pour buckets of water 
over every floor, and scratch all the partitions and wainscots 
with rough brushes, wet with soap suds, and dipped in 
stone-cutter's sand. The windows by no means escape the 
general deluge. A servant scrambles out upon the pent- 
house, at the risk of her neck, and with a mug in her hand, 
and a bucket within reach, she dashes away innumerable 
gallons of water against the glass panes ; to the great annoy- 
ance of the passengers in the streets. 

I have been told that an action at law was once brought 
against one of these water-nymphs, by a person who had a 
new suit of clothes spoiled by this operation ; but, after a 
long argument, it was determined by the whole court that 



286 ESSAYS. 

the action would not lie, inasmuch as the defendant 
was in the exercise of a legal right, and not answerable for 
file consequences ; and so the poor gentleman was doubly 
nonsuited ; for he lost not only his suit of clothes, but bis 
suit at law. 

These sineanngs, scratching?, was' bings rind dashings, being 
duly performed, the next ceremony is to cleanse and replace 
the distracted furniture. Vqu may have seen a house-raising 
or a ship-launch, when all the hands within reach are col- 
lected together: recollect, if you can, the hurry, bustle, con- 
fusion, and noise, of such a scene, and you will have some 
idea of this cleaning match. 'The misfortune is that the 
sole object is to make things clean ; it matters not how ma- 
ny useful, ornamental or valuable articles are mutilated, or 
suffer death under the operation : a mahogany chair and 
carved frame undergo the same discipline; they are to be 
made clean at all events? but their preservation is not wor- 
thy of attention. For instance, a fine large engraving is laid 
flat upon the floor; smaller prints are piled upon it, and the 
superincumbent weight cracks the glasses of the lower tier, 
but this is of no consequence. A valuable picture is placed 
leaning against the sharp corner of a table; others are 
made to lean against that, until the pressure of the whole 
forces the corner of the table through the canvas of the first. 
The frame and glass of a fine print are to be cleaned; the 
spirit and oil used on this occasion are suffered to leak 
through and spoil the engraving; no matter, if the glass is 
clean and the frame shine, it is sufficient : the rest is not 
worthy of consideration. An able arithmetician has made 
an accurate calculation, founded on long experience, and 
has discovered that the losses and destruction incident to 
two white-washings are equal to one removal, and three re- 
movals equal to one fire. 

The cleaning frolic over, matters begin to resume their 
pristine appearance. The storm abates, and all would be 
well again, but it is impossible that so great a convulsion in 
so small a community, should not produce some farther ef- 
fects. For two or three weeks after the operation, the fami- 
ly are usually afflicted with sore throats or sore eyes, occa- 
sioned by the caustic quality of the lime, or with severe 
colds from the exhalations of wet floors or damp walls. 
1 knew a gentleman, who was fond of accounting for eve- 



ESSAYS. 287 

ry thing in a philosophical way. He considers this, which I 
have called a custom, as a real periodical disease peculiar to 
the climate. His train of reasoning is ingenious and whim- 
sical ; but I am not at leisure to give you a detail. The re- 
sult was, that he found the distemper to be incurable ; but 
after much study he conceived he had discovered a method 
to divert the evil he could not subdue. For this purpose he 
caused a small building, about 12 feet square, to be erected 
in his garden, and furnished with some ordinary chairs and 
tables ; and a few prints of the cheapest sort were hung 
against the walls. His hope was, that when the white- 
washing frenzy seized the females of his family, they might 
repair to this apartment ,■ and scrub, and smear, and scour, to 
their heart's content : and so spend the violence of the disease 
in this out-post, while he enjoyed himself in quiet at head- 
quarters. But the experiment did not answer his expecta- 
tion: it was impossible it should, since a prinicpal part of 
the gratification consists in the lady's having an uncontrol- 
led right to torment her husband at least once a year, and to 
turn him out of doors,- and take the reins of government in- 
to her own hands.' 

There is a much better contrivance than this of the phi- 
losopher's; which is, to cover the walls of the house with 
paper: this is generally done; and though it cannot abolish 
it at least shortens the period of female dominion. The 
paper is decorated with flowers of various fancies,- and 
made so ornamental, that the women have admitted the 
fashion without perceiving the design. 

There is also another alleviation of the hushand's dis- 
tress ; he generally has the privilege of a small room or clo- 
set for his books and papers^ the key of which he is allowed 
to keep. This is considered as a privileged place, and 
stands like the land of Goshen amid the plagues of Egypt. 
But then he must be extremely cautious^ and ever on his 
guard ; for should he inadvertently go abroad and leave the 
key in his door, the housemaid, who is always on the watch 
for such an opportunity, immediately enters in triumph with 
buckets, brooms and brushes; takes possession of the premi- 
ses, and forthwith puts all his books and papers to rights — 
to his utter confusion, and sometimes serious detriment. 
For instance : 

A gentleman was sued by the executors of a tradesman, 



288 ESSAYS. 

on a charge found against him in the deceased's books, to the 
amount of thirty pounds. The defendant was strongly im- 
pressed with an idea that be had discharged the debt and ta- 
ken a receipt; but as the transaction was of long standing, 
he knew not where to find the receipt. The suit went on in 
course, and the time approached when judgment would be 
obtained against him. He then sat seriously down to ex- 
amine a large bundle of old papers, which he had untied and 
displayed on a table for that purpose. In the midst of his 
search, he was suddenly called away on business of impor- 
tance ; he forgot to lock the door of his room. The house- 
maid, who had been long looking out for such an opportuni- 
ty, immediately entered with the usual implements, and 
with great alacrity fell to cleaning the room, and putting 
things to rights. The first object that struck her eye was the 
confused situation of the papers on the table ; these were 
without delay bundled together like so many dirty knives 
and forks ; but in the action a small piece of paper fell un- 
noticed on the floor, which happened to be the very receipt 
in question : as it had no very respectable appearance, it 
was soon after swept out with the common dirt of the room, 
and carried in a rubbish pan into the yard. The trades- 
man had neglected to enter the credit in his book : the de- 
fendant could find nothing to obviate the charge, and 
so judgment went against him for the debt and costs. A 
fortnight after the whole was settled, and the money paid, 
one of the children found the receipt among the rubbish in 
the yard. 

There is also another custom peculiar to the city of Phil- 
adelphia, and nearly allied to the former. I mean that of 
washing the pavement before the doors every Saturday even- 
ing. I at first took this to be a regulation of the police ; 
but, on further enquiry, find it is a religious rite, preparato- 
ry to the Sabbath ; and is, I believe, the only religious rite 
in which the numerous sectaries of this city perfectly agree. 
The ceremony begins about sunset, and continues till about 
ten or eleven at night. It is very difficult for a stranger to 
walk the streets on those evenings: he runs a continual risk 
of having a bucket of dirty water thrown against his legs; 
but a Philadelphian born is so much accustomed to the dan- 
ger, that he avoids it with surprising dexterity. It is from 
this circumstance that a Philadelphian may be known any 



ESSAYS. 289 

where by his gait. The streets of New York are paved 
with rough stones ; these indeed are not washed, but the 
dirt is so thoroughly swept from before the doors, that the 
stones stand up sharp and prominent, to the great inconve- 
nience of those who are not accustomed to so rough a path. 
But habit reconciles every thing. It is diverting enough to 
see a Philadelphian at New York ; he walks the streets 
with as much most painful caution, as if his toes were cov- 
ered with corns, or his feet lamed with the gout ; while a 
New Yorker, as little approving the plain masonry of Phil- 
adelphia, shuffles along the pavement like a parrot on a ma- 
hogany table. 

It must be acknowledged that the ablutions I have men- 
tioned are attended with no small inconvenience ; but the 
women would not be induced, from any consideration, to 
resign their privilege. Notwithstanding this I can give you 
the strongest assurances that the women of America make 
the most faithful wives and the most attentive mothers in the 
world ; and I am sure you will join me in opinion, that if a 
married man is made miserable only one week in a whole 
year, he will have no great cause to complain of the matri- 
monial bond. 

I am, &c. 



ANSWER TO THE ABOVE. 

IN- -THE CHARACTER OF A LADY: BUT REALLY BY 
THE SAME HAND. 

SIR, 

I have lately seen a letter upon the subject of white- 
washing, in which that necessary duty of a good housewife 
is treated with unmerited ridicule. I should probably 
have forgot the foolish thing by this time ; but the season 
coming on which most women think suitable for cleansing 
their apartments from smoke and dirt of the winter, I find 
this saucy author dished up in every family, and his flip- 
pant performance quoted wherever a wife attempts to exer- 
cise her reasonable prerogative, or execute the duties of her 
station. Women generally employ their time to better pur- 
25 N 



290 ESSAYS. 

pose than scribbling. The cares and comforts of a fairriiy 
rest principally upon their shoulders ; hence it is that there 
are but few female authors; and the men, knowing how ne- 
cessary our attentions are to their happiness, take every op- 
portunity of discouraging literary accomplishments in the 
fair sex. You hear it echoed from every quarter, ' My wife 
cannot make verses, it is true ; but she makes an excellent 
pudding; she can't correct the press, but she can correct her 
children, and scold her servants with admirable discretion ; 
she can't unravel the intricacies of political economy and 
federal government, but ohe can knit charming stockings.' 
And this they call praising a wife, and doing justice to her 
character, with much nonsense of the like kind. 

I say, women generally employ their time to much better 
purpose than scribbling; otherwise this facetious writer had 
not gone so long unanswered. We have ladies who some- 
times lay down the needle and take up the pen : I wonder 
none of them have attempted some reply. For my part, I 
do not pretend to be an author. I never appeared in print 
in my life, but I can no longer forbear saying something in 
answer to such impertinence, circulate how it may. Only, 
sir, consider our situation. Men are naturally inattentive 
to the decencies of life; but why should I be so complai- 
sant ?- I say, they are naturally filthy creatures. If it were 
not that their connexion with the refined sex polished their 
manners, and had a happy influence on the general econo- 
my of life, these lords of the creation would wallow in filth, 
and populous cities would infect the atmosphere with their 
noxious vapors. It is the attention and assiduity of the 
women that prevent men from degenerating into mere swine. 
How important then are the services we render; and yet 
for these very services we are made the subject of ricficule 
and fun. Base ingratitude ! Nauseous creatures ! Per- 
haps you may think I am in a passion. No, sir, I do as- 
sure you I never was more composed in my life ; and yet it 
is enough to provoke a saint to see how' unreasonably we 
are treated by the men. Why now, there's my husband — 
a good enough sort of a man in the main — but I will give 
you a sample of him. He comes into the parlor the other 
day, where, to be sure, I was cutting up a piece of linen. 
4 Lord !' says he, what a flutter here is ! I can't bear to see the 
parlor look like a tailor's shop : besides I am going to make 



ESSAYS. 291 

some important philosophical experiments, and must have 
sufficient room.' You must know, my husband is one of 
your would-be philosophers. Well, I bundled up my linen 
as quick as I could, and began to darn a pair of ruffles, 
which took no room, and could give no offence. I thought, 
however, I would watch my lord and master's important 
business. In about a half an hour the tables were covered 
with all manner of trumpery; bottles of water, phials of 
drugs, paste-board, paper and cards, glue, paste and gum 
arabic; files, knives, scissors, needles, rosin, wax, silk, 
thread, rags, jags, tags, books, pamphlets, and papers. 
Lord bless me ! I am almost out of breath, and yet I have 
not enumerated half the articles. Well, to work he went, 
and although I did not understand the object of his manoeu- 
vres, yet I could sufficiently discover that he did not succeed 
in any one operation. I was glad of that, I confess, and 
with good reason, too : for, after he had fatigued himself 
with mischief, like a monkey in a china shop, and had call- 
ed the servants to clear every thing away, I took a view of 
the scene my parlor exhibited. I shall not even attempt a 
minute description ; suffice it to say, that he had overset his 
ink-stand, and stained my best mahogany table with ink ; 
he had spilt a quantity of vitriol, and burnt a large hole in 
my carpet : my marble hearth was all over spotted with 
melted rosin : besides this, he had broken three china cups, 
four wine-glasses, two tumblers, and one of my handsomest 
decanters. And, after all, as I said before, I perceived that 
he had not succeeded in any one operation. By-the-by, tell 
your friend, the white-wash scribbler, that this is one means 
by which our closets become furnished with halves of china 
bowls, cracked tumblers, broken wine-glasses, tops of tea- 
pots, and stoppers of departed decanters. I, I say, took a 
view of the dirt and devastation which my philosophic hus- 
band had occasioned ; and there I sat, like Patience on a 
monument, smiling at grief; but it worked inwardly. I 
would almost as soon the melted rosin and vitriol had been 
in his throat, as on my dear marble hearth, and my beauti- 
ful carpet. It is not true that women have no power 
over their own feelings ; for notwithstanding this provoca- 
tion I said nothing, or next to nothing : for I only ob- 
served, very pleasantly, what a lady of my acquain- 
tance had told me, that the reason why philosophers are 



292 ESSAYS. 

culled literary men, is because they make a great Utter: 
not a word more : however, the servant clewed away, and 
down sat the philosopher. A friend dropped in soon 
after — ^Your servant, Sir: how do youdoP 'OLord! 
1 am almost fatigued to death ; 1 have been all the morning 
making philosophical experiments.' I was now more. hard- 
ly put to it to smother a laugh than I had been just before 
to contain nay rage; \ny precious went out soon after, and 1, 
as you may suppose, mustered all my forces: brushes, buck- 
els, s >ap, sand, limeskins, and cocoanut shells, with all the 
powers of housewifery, were immediately employed. I 
was certainly the best philosopher of the two; for my ex- 
periments succeeded, and his did not. All was well again, 
except my poor carpet — my vitriolized carpet,' which still 
continued a mournful memento of philosophic fury, or rath- 
er philosophic folly. The operation was scarce over, when 
in came my experimental philosopher, and told me with all 
the indifference in the world, that he had invited six gentle- 
men to dine with him at three o'clock. It was dren past 
one. I complained of the short notice; SPoh! poh!' said 
he, 'you can get a leg of mutton, and a loin of veal, and a 
few potatoes, which will do well enough.' Heavens! what 
a chaos must the head of a philosopher be ! a leg of mutton, 
a loin of veal, and potatoes! I was at a loss whether I 
should laugh or be angry ; but there was no time for deter- 
mining : I had but an hour and a half to do a world of busi- 
ness in. My carpet, which had suffered in the cause of ex- 
perimental philosophy in the morning, was destined to be 
most shamefully dishonored in the afternoon by a deluge of 
nasty tobacco juice. Gentlemen smokers love segars better 
than carpets. Think, Sir, what a woman must endure un- 
der such circumstances; and then, after all, to be reproach- 
ed with her cleanliness, and to have, her white-washings, 
her scourings, and scrubbings, made the subject of ridicule — 
it is more than patience can put up with. What I have now 
exhibited is but a small specimen of the injuries we sustain 
from the boasted superiority of men. But we will not be 
laughed out of our cleanliness. A woman would rather 
be called any thing than a slut, as a man would rather be 
thought a knave than a fool. I had a great deal more to 
say, but am called away; we are just preparing to white- 
wash, and of course I have a deal of business on my hands. 



ESSAYS. 293 

The white-wash huckets are paraded, the brushes are ready, 
my husband is gone off— so much the better ; when we are 
upon a thorough cleaning, the first dirty thing to be remov- 
ed is one's husband. I am called for again. Adieu. 



FINAL SPEECH OF DR. FRANKLIN IN THE 
LATE FEDERAL CONVENTIONS 

MR. PRESIDENT, 

I confess that I qo not entirely approve of this Const! 
tution at present ; but, Sir, I am not sure I shall never 
approve it ; for having lived long, I have experienced many 
instances of being obliged, by better information or fuller 
consideration, to change opinions even on important sub- 
jects, which I once thought right, but found to be otherwise. 
It is, therefore, that the older I grow the more apt I am tc 
doubt my own judgment, and to pay more respect to the 
judgment of others. Most men, indeed, as well as most sects 
in religion, think themselves in possession of all truth, and 
that whenever others differ from them, it is so far error. 
Steele, a protestant, in a dedication, tells the Pope, that, 
'the only difference between our two churches, in their 
opinions to the certainty of their doctrines, is, the Ro- 
mish church is infallible, and the church of England never 
in the wrong.' But, though many private persons think al- 
most as highly of their own infallibility as that of their sect, 
few express it so naturally as a certain French lady, who, 
in a little dispute with her sister, said, ' I don't know how it 
happens, sister, but I meet with nobody but myself that is 
always in the right.' II ri>y a que moi qui a toujour s rai- 
son. In these sentiments, Sir, I agree to this constitution, 
with all its faults, if they are such ; because I think a gene- 
ral government necessaiy for us, and there is no form of go- 
vernment but what may be a blessing, if well administered ; 
and I believe, farther, that this is likely to be well adminis- 
tered for a course of years, and can only end in despotism, 

*Our reasons for ascribing this speech to Dr. Franklin are its in- 
ternal evidence, and its having appeared with his name during hia 
lifetime, uncontradicted, in an American periodical publication. 



294 ESSAYS. 

as other forms have done before it, when the people shall 
become so corrupted as to need despotic government, being 
incapable of any other. I doubt, too, whether any other 
convention we can obtain, may be able to make a better con- 
stitution : for when you assemble a number of men, to have 
the advantage of their joint wisdom, you inevitably assem- 
ble with those men all their prejudices, their passions, their 
errors of opinion, their local interests, and their selfish views. 
From such an assembly can a perfect production he expect- 
ed? It therefore astonishes me, Sir, to find this system ap- 
proaching so near to perfection as it does; audi think it 
will astonish our enemies, who are waiting with confidence 
to hear that our councils are confounded, like those of the 
builders of Babylon, and that our States are on the point 
of separation, only to meet hereafter for the purpose of cut- 
ting each other's throats. 

Thus I consent, Sir, to this constitution; because I expect 
no better, and because I am not sure that this is not the best. 
The opinions I have had of its errors, I sacrifice to the pub- 
lic good. I have never whispered a syllable of them abroad. 
Within these walls they were born, and here they shall die. 
Jf every one of us in returning to our constituents, were to re- 
port the objections he has had to it, and endeavor to gain par- 
lisansin support of them, we might prevent its being generally 
received, and thereby lose all the salutary effects and great 
advantages resulting naturally in our favor among foreign 
nations, as well as among ourselves, from our real or appa- 
rent unanimity. Much of the strength and efficiency of 
any government, in procuring and securing happiness to the 
people, depends on opinion ; on the general opinion of the 
goodness of that government, as the wisdom and integrity 
of its governors. 

I hope, therefore, that for our own sakes, as a part of the 
people, and for the sake of our posterity, we shall act heart- 
ily and unanimousty in recommending this - constitution, 
wherever our influence may extend, and turn our future 
thoughts and endeavors to the means of having it well 
administered. 

On the whole, Sir, I cannot help expressing a wish that 
every member of the Convention, who may still have objec- 
tions, would with me, on this occasion, doubt a little of his 

25* 



ESSAYS. 295 

own infallibility, and, to make manifest our unanimity, put 
his name to this instrument. 

[The motion was then made for adding the last formula, 
viz : 

Done in Convention, by the unanimous consent, &c. 
which was agreed to, and added accordingly.] 



PREFERENCE OF BOWS AND ARROWS IN WAR 
TO FIRE-ARMS. 

TO MAJOR GENERAL LEE. 

dear sir, Philadelphia, Feb. 11, 1776. 

The bearer, Mons. Arundel, is directed by the Congress 
to repair to General Schuyler, in order to be employed by 
him in the artillery service. He proposes to wait on you in 
his way, and has requested me to introduce him by a line to 
you. Be has been an officer in the French service, as 
you will see by his commissions ; and professing a good will 
to our cause, I hope he maybe useful in instructing ourgun~\ 
ners and matrosses : perhaps he may advise in opening the 
nailed cannon. 

I received the enclosed the other day from an officer, Mr. 
Newland, who served in the two last wars, and was known 
by General Gates, who spoke well of him to me when I was 
at Cambridge. He is desirous now of entering into your 
service. I have advised him to wait upon you at New 
York. 

They still talk'oi'J in England and threaten hard ; but their 
language is somewhat civiler, at least not quite so disres- 
pectful to us. By degrees they come to their senses ; but 
too late, I fancy, for their interest. 

We have got a large quantity of saltpetre, one hundred 
and twenty tons, and thirty more expected. Powder mills 
are now wanting ; I believe we must set to work and make it 
by hand. But I still wish, with you, that pikes could be 
introduced, and I would add bows and arrows : these were 
good weapons, and not wisely laid aside. 

1. Because a man may shoot as truly with a bow as with 
a common musket. 



296 ESSAYS. 

2% He can discharge four arrows in the time of charging 
and discharging one bullet. 

3. His object is not taken from his view by the smoke of 
his own side. 

4. A flight of arrows seen coming upon them terrifies and 
disturbs the enemy's attention to his business. 

5. An arrow sticking in any part of a man, puts him hors 
du combat till it is extracted. 

6. Bows and arrows are more easily provided every 
where than muskets and ammunition. 

Polydore Virgil, speaking of one of our battles against the 
French, in Edward the Third's reign, mentions the great 
confusion the enemy was thrown into, sagittarum nube, 
from the English ; and concludes, Est res profecto dictu 
mirabilis ut tantus acpolens exercitus a soils fere Jlnglicis 
sagiltariis virtus faerit; adeo Jlnglus est sagittipotens, et 
id gcniis armorum valet. If so much execution was done 
by arrows when men wore some defensive armor, how* 
much more might be done now that it is out of use ! 

I am glad you are come to New York, but I also wish 
you could be in Canada. There is a kind of suspense in 
men's minds here at present, waiting to see what terms will 
be offered from England. I expect none that we can ac- 
cept ; and when that is generally seen, we shall be more 
unanimous and more decisive : then your proposed solemn 
league and covenant will go better down, and perhaps most 
of our other strong measures be adopted. 

I am always glad to hear from you, but I do not deserve 
your favors, being so bad a correspondent. My eyes will 
now hardly serve me to write by night, and these short days 
have been all taken up with such a variety of business that 
I seldom can sit down ten minutes without interruption — 
God give you success ! 

I am, with the greatest esteem, 
Yours affectionately, 

B. FRANKLIN. 



ESSAYS. 297 



ON THE THEORY OF THE EARTH. 
TO ABBE SOULIAVE. 

Passy, September 22, 1782. 

€IR, 

I return the papers with some corrections. I did not find 
coal mines under the calcareous rock in Derbyshire. I only 
remarked, that at the lowest part of that rocky mountain 
which was in sight, there were oyster shells mixed with the 
stone ; and part of the high country of Derby being probably 
as much above the level of the sea, as the coal mines of White- 
haven were below, it seemed a proof that there had been a 
great bouleversement in the surface of that island, some 
part of it having been depressed under the sea, and other 
parts, which had been under it, being raised above it. Such 
changes in the superficial parts of the globe seemed to me 
unlikely to happen, if the earth were solid at the centre. I 
therefore imagined that the internal parts might be a fluid 
more dense, and of greater specific gravity than any of the 
solids we are acquainted with ; which therefore might swim 
in or upon that fluid. Thus the surface of the globe would 
be a shell, capable of being broken and disordered by the 
violent movements of the fluid on which it rested. And, 
as air has been compressed by art so as to be twice 
as dense as water, in which case, if such air and 
water could be contained in a strong glass vessel, the 
air would be seen to take the lowest place, and the wa- 
ter to float above and upon it ; and, as we know not yet the 
degree of density to which air may be compressed, and M. 
Amontons calculated, that, its density increasing as it ap- 
proached the centre in the same proportion as above the 
surface, it would, at the depth of — leagues, be heavier 
than gold, possibly the dense fluid occupying the internal 
parts of the globe might be air compressed. And as the 
force of expansion in dense air when heated, is in proportion 
to its density ; this central air might afford another agent to 
move the surface, as well as be of use in keeping alive 
the central fires ; though, as you observe, the sudden rare- 
faction of water coming into contact with those fires, may 



298 ESSAYS. 

be an agent sufficiently strong for that purpose, when act- 
ing between the incumbent earth and the fluid on which it 
rests. 

If one might indulge imagination in supposing how such a 
globe was formed, I should conceive that all the elements in 
separate particles, being originally mixed in confusion, and 
occupying a great, space, they would (as soon as the Almigh- 
ty fiat ordained gravity, or the mutual attraction of certain 
parts, o*nd the mutual repulsion of other parts, to exist) all 
move towards their common centre : that the air being a 
fluid whose parts repel each other, though drawn to the 
common centre by their g null be densest towards 

the centre, and rarer as more remote ; consequently, all bo- 
dies, lighter than the central parts of that air, and immersed 
in it, would recede from the centre, and rise till they arrive 
at that region of the air, which was of the same specific gra- 
vity with themselves, where they would rest; while other 
matter mixed with the lighter air, would descend, and the 
two, meeting, would form the shell of the first earth, leav- 
ing the upper atmosphere nearly clear. The original move- 
ment of the parts towards their common centre, would form 
a whirl there ; which would continue in the turning 
of the new-formed globe upon its axis, and the great- 
est diameter of the shell would be in its equator. If by 
any accident afterwards the axis should be changed, the 
dense internal fluid, by altering its form, must burst the 
shell, and throw all its substance into the confusion in which 
we find it. I will not trouble you at present with my fan- 
cies concerning the manner of forming the rest of our S3 r s- 
tem. Superior beings smile on our theories, and at our pre- 
sumption in making them. I will just mention that your 
observation of the ferruginous nature of the lava, which is 
thrown out from the depths of our volcanoes gave me great 
pleasure. It has long been a supposition of mine, that the 
iron contained in the substance of the globe has made it ca- 
pable of becoming, as it is, a great magnet; that the fluid of 
magnetism exists perhaps in all space ; so that there is a 
magnetical North and South of the Universe, as well as of 
this globe ; and that if it were possible for a man to fly 
from star to star, he might govern his course by 
the compass; that it was by the power of this general mag- 
netism this globe became a particular magnet. In soft or 



ESSAYS. 293 

hot iron the fluid of magnetism is naturally diffused equally ; 
when within the influence of a magnet, it is drawn to one end 
of the iron, and made denser there and rarer at the other. 
While the iron continues soft and hot, it is only a temporary 
magnet : if it cools or grows hard in that situation, it be- 
comes a permanent one, the magnetic fluid not easily resum- 
ing its equilibrium. Perhaps it may he owing to the perma- 
nent magnetism of this globe which it had not at first, that 
its axis is at present kept parallel to itself, and not liable 
to the changes it formerly suffered, which occasioned 
the rupture of its shell, the submersions and emersions of its 
lands, and the confusion of its seasons. The present polar 
and equatorial diameters differing from each other near ten 
leagues, it is easy to conceive, in case some power should 
shift the axis gradually, and place it in the present equator, 
and make the new equator pass through the present poles, 
what a sinking of the waters would happen in the present 
equatorial regions, and what a rising in the present polar re- 
gions ; so that vast tracts would be discovered that now are 
under water, and others covered that now are dry, the wa- 
ter rising and sinking in the different extremes near five 
leagues! Such an operation as this possibly occasioned 
much of Europe, and, among the rest, of this mountain of 
Passy, on which I live, and which is composed of lime- 
stone, rock, and sea shells, to be abandoned by the sea, 
and to change its ancient climate, which seems to have 
been a hot one. The globe being now become a perfect 
magnet, we are perhaps safe from any future change of its 
axis. But we are still subject to the accidents on the sur- 
face, which are occasioned by a wave in the internal pon- 
derous fluid : and such a wave is produced by the sudden 
violent explosion you mention, happening from the junc- 
tion of water and fire under the earth, which not only lifts 
the incumbent earth that is over the explosion, but impress- 
ing with the same force the fluid under it, creates a 
wave that may run a thousand leagues, lifting, and thereby 
shaking successively, all the countiies under which it pass- 
es. I know not whether I have expressed myself so clear • 
ly, as not to get out of your sight in these reveries. If they 
occasion any new inquiries, and produce a better hypothe- 
sis, they will not be quite useless. You see I have given a 
loose to imagination, but I approve much more your method 



300 ESSAYS. 

of philosophising, which proceeds upon actual observation, 
makes a collection of facts, and concludes no farther than 
those facts will warrant. In my present circumstances, 
that mode of studying the r.ature of the globe is out of my 
power, and therefore 1 have permitted myself to wander a 
little in the wilds of fancy. With great esteem, I have the 
honor to be, 

Sir, &c. 
B. FRANKLIN. 

P. S. I have heard that chemists can by their art decom- 
pose stone and wood, extracting a considerable quantity of 
water from the one, and air from the other. It seems nat- 
ural to conclude from this, that water and air were ingre- 
dients in their original composition : for men cannot make 
new matter of any kind. In the same manner do we not 
suppose, that when we consume combustibles of all kinds, 
and produce heat or light, we do not create that heat or 
light, we only decompose a substance which received it ori- 
ginally ete a part of its composition? Heat may thus be 
considered as originally in a fluid state ; but, attracted by 
organized bodies in their grcrwth, becomes a part of the solid. 
Besides this, I can conceive that, in the first assemblage of 
the particles of which this earth is composed, each brought 
its portion of the loose heat that had been connected with 
it, and the whole when pressed together, produced the in- 
ternal fire which still subsists. 



LOOSE THOUGHTS ON THE UNIVERSAL 
FLUID, ETC. 

Passy, June 25, 1784. 

Universal space, as far as we know of it, seems to be 
filled with a subtile fluid, whose motion, or vibration, is 
called light. 

This fluid may possibly be the same with that which, be- 
ing attracted by and entering into other more solid matter, 
dilates the substance, by separating the constituent particles, 
and so rendering some solids fluid, and maintaining the 



ESSAYS. 301 

fluidity of others : of which fluid when our bodies are to- 
tally deprived, they are said to be frozen ; when they have 
a proper quantity, they are in health, and fit to per- 
form all their functions; it is then called natural heat: 
when too much, it is called fever; and when forced into 
the body in too great a quantity from without, it gives pain 
by separating and destroying the flesh, and is then called 
burning ; and the fluid so entering and acting is called fire. 

While organized bodies, animal or vegetable, are aug- 
menting in growth, or are supplying their continual waste, 
is not this done by attracting and consolidating this fluid call- 
ed fire, so as to form of it a part of their substance? and is 
it not a separation of the parts of such substance, which, 
dissolving its solid state, sets that subtile fluid at liberty, 
when it again makes its appearance as fire ? 

For the power of man relative to matter seems limited to 
the dividing it, or mixing the various kinds of it, or chang- 
ing its form and appearance by different compositions of it ; 
but does not extend to the making or creating of new mat- 
ter, or annihilating the old : thus, if fire be an original ele- 
ment, or kind of matter, its quantity is fixed and permanent 
in the world. We cannot destroy any part of it, or make 
addition to it ; we can only separate it from that which con- 
fines it, and so set it at liberty, as when we put wood in a 
situation to be burnt : or transfer it from one solid to anoth- 
er, as when we make lime by burning stone, a part of the 
fire dislodged from the wood being left in the stone. May 
not this fluid, when at liberty, be capable of penetrating and 
entering into all bodies, organized or not ; quitting easily in 
totality those not organized; and quitting easily in part 
those which are ; the part assumed and fixed remaining till 
the body is dissolved 1 

Is it not this fluid which keeps asunder the particles of air, 
permitting them to approach, or separating them more, in 
proportion as its quantity is diminished or augmented ? Is 
it not the greater gravity of the particles of air which forces 
the particles of this fluid to mount with the matters to which 
it is attached, as smoke or vapor 1 ? 

Does it not seem to have a great affinity with water, since 
it will quit a solid to unite with that fluid, and go off with 
it in vapor, leaving the solid cold to the touch, and the de- 
gree measurable by the thermometer? 
26 



302 ESSAYS. 

The vapor rises attached to this fluid ; but at a certain 
height they scparatf, and the vapor descends in rain, re- 
taining but little of it, in snow or hail less. What be- 
comes of that fluid I Does it rise above our atmosphere, 
and mix equally with the universal mass- of the same kind? 
Or does a spherical stratum of it, denser or less mixed with 
air, attracted by this globe, and repelled or pushed up only 
to a certain height from its surface, by the greater weight of 
air remain there, surrounding the globe, and proceeding with 
it round the sun ? 

In such case, as there may be a continuity or communica- 
tion of this fluid through the air quite down to the earth, is 
it not by the vibrations given to it by the sun that light ap- 
pears to us ; and may it not be, that every one of the infi- 
nitely small vibrations, striking common matter with a cer- 
tain force, enter its substance, are held there by attrac- 
tion, and augmented by succeeding vibrations, till the mat- 
ter has received as much as their force can drive into it? 

Is it not thus that the surface of this globe is continu- 
ally heated by such repeated vibrations in the day, and 
cooled by the escape of the heat when those vibrations are dis- 
continued in the night, or intercepted and reflected by clouds? 

Is it not thus that fire is amassed, and makes the greatest 
part of the substance of combustible bodies? 

Perhaps when this globe was first formed, ancHts origi- 
nal particles took their place at certain distances from the 
centre, in proportion to their greater or less gravity, the fluid 
fire, attracted towards that centre, might in great part be 
obliged, as lightest, to take place above the rest, and thus 
form the sphere of fire above s-upposed, which would 
afterwards be continually diminishing by the substance it 
afforded to organized bodies ; and the quantity restored to 
it again by the burning or other separating of the parts of 
those bodies. 

Is not the natural heat of animals thus produced, by sep- 
arating in digestion the parts of food, and setting their fire 
at liberty ? 

Is it not this sphere of fire which kindles the wandering 
globes that sometimes pass through it in our course round 
the sun, have their surface kindled by it, and burst when 
their included air is greatly ratified by the heat on theur 
burning surfaces ? 



CONTENTS. 



Life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself, - - - 7 
Continuation of his Life by Dr. Stuber, - - - - 102 
Extracts from his Will, --------- 159 

ESSAYS. 
On Early Marriages, ----------169 

On the Death of his brother, Mr. John Franklin, - - 171 
To the late Dr. Mather, of Boston, ------ ib. 

The Whistle, a true story, written to his nephew, - - 173 
A Petition of the Left Hand, -------- 175 

The Handsome and Deformed Leg, - - - - - -176 

Conversation of a Company of Ephemerae ; with the 
Soliloquy of one advanced in age, ----- 178 

Morals of Chess, 180 

The Art of procuring Pleasant Dreams, - - - - 183 

Advice to a Young Tradesman, ------- 188 

Necessary Hints to those who would be Rich, - - 190 
The Way to make Money plenty in every Man's 

Pock/5t, 191 

An Economical Project, --------- 192 

Sketch of an English School, --------196 

On modern Innovations in the English Language, and 

in Printing, ---- -__ 202 

An Account of the highest Court of Judicature in Penn- 
sylvania, viz* the Court of the Press, - - - - 207 

Paper. A Poem, ----------- 211 

On the Art of Swimming, ---------213 

New Mode of Bathing, --------- 215 

Observations on the generally prevailing Doctrines of 
Life and Death, ----------- 216 

Precautions to be used by those who are about to un- 
dertake a Sea Voyage, - - ----- 218 

On Luxury, Idleness, and Industry^ - - - - 223 

303 



304 CONTENTS. 

On the Slave Trade, 227 

Observations on War, ---------- 230 

On the Impress of Seamen, -------- 231 

On the Criminal Laws and the Practice of Privateer- 
ing, 235 

Remarks concerning the Savages of North Amer- 
ica, " 241 

To Mr. Dubourg concerning the Dissensions between 
England and America, --------- 247 

A Comparison of the Conduct of the Ancient Jews 
and of the Antifederalists in the United States of 
America, ------------- 248 

Nautical Affairs, -----.------ 252 

Positions to be examined, --------- 255 

Preliminary Address to the Pennsylvania Almanac, 
entitled, u Poor Richard's Almanac for the Year 

1758," 257 

The Internal State of America ; being a true descrip- 
tion of the Interest and Policy of that vast Conti- 
nent, 2fiG 

Information to those who would remove to America, - 271 
Thoughts on commercial subjects, ------ 27!) 

American White-washing, -------- 283 

Answer to the above, ---------- 289 

Final Speech of Dr. Franklin in the late Federal 
Convention, ------------ 293 

Preference of Bows and Arrows in War to Fire-arms 2!)5 

On the Theory of the Earth, 21)7 

Loose Thoughts on a Universal Fluid, ----- 300 






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